


Good Times For A Change

by malu (orphan_account)



Category: MotoGP RPF, Motorcycling RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: Coming Out, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Angst and at some point certainly smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-16
Updated: 2015-02-03
Packaged: 2018-02-25 16:11:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 46
Words: 74,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2627936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/malu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alex knows something. Uccio suspects a lot. Jorge feels awkward. Dani has a plan.<br/>And Marc and Vale are oblivious on cloud happy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> The "Rosquez" I've been wanting to write. Actually, everything else was just an accident.  
> This might be very slow or very quick on updates, muse has always been a pain with these two.  
> And you know the deal, 46 chapters ♥  
>  ~~Expect the rating to change eventually ;)~~  
>  Obviously, only imagination and just playing.

“What’s going on between you and Marc?”

Vale snorts a bit of his water over the table, staring at his best friend in confusion.

”Me and Marc?” The reply comes a bit shaky, because he’s still coughing slightly.

Across the table, Uccio shrugs and furrows his brows a little. “Sorry. You’ve been hanging out so much. I thought it just looks-“ With another shrug, his friend trails off. “Never mind.”

Still irritated, Vale raises an eyebrow, but Uccio evades his look now and focuses on his pasta instead, so the rider shrugs as well and returns to his dinner. In the back of his head though, the innocent or possibly not-so-innocent remark sticks, against his will, causing his thoughts to circulate around the relationship between him and Marc too much. _We’re just similar. I mean, we’re not even close friends, right? Uccio is my best friend. Marc is just… he’s Marc. He’s a lot like me, like a younger version of me and having him around makes me feel happy. There’s nothing wrong about inviting him over to the ranch, right? I’m inviting riders over all the time. And sure, we’re a bit touchy, but that’s only because we’re kind of like brothers. Nothing more. Really not._ Vale shakes his head a bit, taking another fork of salad. _Just a friend. And I’m definitely not missing him._

*

”What’s going on with you and Vale?”

Marc almost drops the controller and releases a brief swear, having lost another point to Alex in the game. Pressing pause, he turns to face his younger brother with an irritated face.

”Me and Valentino?”

”Yeah. You look so… I don’t know… close?” Alex holds his gaze and doesn’t even have the decency to blush after whatever he’d just been alluding to.

”You’ve got to be kidding me, right?” Marc glares daggers at the teenager next to him, but Alex just shrugs. “Dammit, Alex, you know I’m straight, right?”

”If you like that kind of labels, then yeah, okay. But seriously, why’d you even assume that’s what I was aiming for?”

There’s a very dirty smirk spreading all over Alex’s face and Marc feels his cheeks heat up, not sure whether it’s anger or shame that changes his skin color to red right now.

”Idiot,” he huffs, eyes back on the TV screen. “You’re just trying to distract me from the game so you’ll finally have a chance to win.”

He hears Alex chuckle next to him and he unpauses the game, but he’s not focused anymore. His mind is playing dirty tricks on him after that remark, spinning around images of Vale and making the memories from their shared podiums, their celebrations and the stay at the ranch flash up in front of his eyes. _But we’re just friends. Not even that close. I’m way closer to Alex and Tito, even Dani. So it’s not like there’s anything special about me and Vale. We just get along really well because we’re so similar. And I’m definitely not missing him. Also, just because Linda broke up with him doesn’t mean he’s desperate. And anyway, this is ridiculous._ And while he’s still brooding, his younger brother takes point after point. _Dirty trick, Alex, that was a dirty trick. And Vale is still just a friend._

*

”Do you think there’s something between Marc and Vale?” Dani snuggles closer to his boyfriend, head in the crook of his neck and wrapping an arm around the broad chest under the sheet next to him.

”Marc and Vale? Hm.” The body next to him shifts and Dani feels a hand in his hair, touch relaxing and making him sigh happily. “Nope. It’s a shame though, they’d make a cute couple.”

”Don’t you think with the way they’re looking at each other they might already be a couple?” Dani laces their fingers on Jorge’s chest.

”I don’t think they have a clue.” He feels Jorge shake his head.

”But have you seen the way he touches him?”

”Yeah, but I doubt they get it. If they had something going on, we’d know. You hang out with Marc, I hang out with Vale, they’d slip. But there’s nothing. I really think they’re too blind to notice that whatever they’re looking for among all these girls they take to their motorhomes is in front of their eyes already.”

”Hm. Don’t you think we could help them though?”

”Dani, you’re not seriously suggesting what I think you’re suggesting, are you?” There's an exasperated sigh falling from Jorge's mouth.

”Well, we don’t have to. But Jorge, why not?”

”Okay, you’re honestly telling me you want to play matchmaker for Valentino Rossi and Marc Marquez?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Please, please, please, let me get what I want by The Smiths


	2. Life Is A Maze...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, thank you so much for the feedback ♥

_...and love is a riddle_

They’re watching a movie in Vale’s motorhome, Bluesbrothers, Vale’s choice. It’s funny and relaxing and they’re both sprawled out on the bed, arms touching slightly between them. _But that’s totally normally, right? Only that maybe with other people it doesn’t feel quite as hot? But then, Vale is sure just really hot. Either way, it’s normal. We’re just hanging out._

Marc shrugs to himself, takes another sip of water and shifts his focus back to the movie. After all, it’s just because they share the same interests and because they feel comfortable around each other. And that touch of their knees under the table, during the press conference, it didn’t mean anything. And the shiver that it made run down his spine was only caused by a blow of cool air. And anyway, they’re both straight and the thoughts are only swirling in his head because of Alex’s stupid trick. He lets out an annoyed sigh, prompting Vale to look at him with confused eyes.

”You don’t want to watch anymore? We can do something else!”

”No, that’s not it. I just thought about something annoying Alex said yesterday. I love the movie.”

*

They’ve been running together in the early morning, making their rounds before the rest of the paddock wakes up and they’re having breakfast in his motorhome. It’s nothing special that he let Marc use his shower, right? Because that’s just what friends do for each other. It’s normal. Just as normal as sitting here with a fourteen years younger rider over some toast and orange juice. And he sure as hell didn’t just marvel that muscular chest when Marc came back from the shower, wanting to borrow one of his shirts. And it’s not doing anything to him that the young guy is sitting there in a 46-T-Shirt. Nothing at all. Vale stares at his toast determinedly, condemning Uccio for ever making these strange thoughts pop up in his head and he almost tells Marc, but then he realizes how weird it would sound. _Hey, my best friend thinks we’re fucking._ He briefly shakes his head, dry smile on his face. _We’re straight, this is just two guys hanging out. Nothing more._

”Hello there?”

Vale’s head jerks up as he suddenly realizes that Marc has been talking to him for a moment already.

”What’s going on? You’re not even listening?” The young Spaniard gives him his usual laugh and Vale blinks briefly, chasing away the haze of his thoughts.

”Sorry. Just something stupid Uccio said the other day. What were you saying?”

*

”So, you and Vale-“ Dani doesn’t get any further and has to bite his lip in order to suppress a laugh when Marc ungracefully falls from the chair he’d been leaning on with a thud.

The younger rider gets up slowly, dusting off his pants and giving Dani a nervous smile that would give it all away if Dani wasn’t so sure already.

”We’re friends.”

”Friends?” Dani tries for a dirty smirk and is pleased to see Marc’s cheeks flush slightly.

”Yes, why?” Marc turns around, pretending to read a telemetry sheet and Dani almost giggles at the slight pout he spots before he cannot see Marc’s face anymore.

”You were pretty touchy on that podium for just friends.” Dani gets up and walks past the younger man. “And Marc?”

”Hm?” The other shoots him a quick glare that clearly says _Go away_.

”You’re holding that upside down, just in case you were wondering about the strange letters.” And Dani rushes out of the garage, past a puzzled Santi, bursting into a fit of laughter once he’s outside. _Wow, did he turn red at that._

*

”So, you and Marc, you’re getting along?” Jorge stares with fascination as Vale’s face turns crimson in front of him. _Dammit Dani, this is ridiculous but you’re right, it’s also pretty adorable._

”We’re friends.” Valentino shrugs casually, eyes on the data sheet in his hands now, but Jorge doesn’t fail to notice the shakiness in the other’s hands.

”Oh, okay. Didn’t realize until lately. You’ve been hanging out a lot.”

”Yes. He’s a bit like me. We have a lot in common.” _Well, that is certainly true._

”Okay. You seem touchy, you know? On that podium today, that looked like you’re really close.” Jorge tries his best to make his voice alluding, cursing Dani for the entire idea and feeling helpless in unknown waters. _How the hell do you make your older teammate that you’re just about on friendly terms with open up about something like _this_?_

”Oh, do we?” Vale turns an even darker shade of pink and Jorge suppresses an _aww_. “Don’t know. With Marc, it’s just easy, he’s like a little brother.”

_Only that I never see you acting like this with Luca._

*

”So, did he say anything?” Jorge presses Dani against his chest, holding the smaller rider tight and letting the smaller man’s heartbeat vibrate through his own chest.

”Not really. But he didn’t have to. He turned pink and he fell from a chair, I’m taking that as a yes. But you’re right, it won’t be easy to make him admit. How about Vale?”

”Mhm. Same. Well, he didn’t fall from a chair. But he did turn a beautiful shade of red. So, how do you want to make them open up about it?”

”Hm, I have this idea.” Dani turns around, sitting to straddle his lap now, Jorge moaning softly at the friction between their crotches and he steals a quick kiss before Dani continues, “Do you trust them?”

”On track or off track?” Jorge tries to stay focused on their conversation, not having their body contact distract him to much.

”Aw, you’re not still angry because he passed you?” Dani chuckles and Jorge pouts, prompting his older boyfriend to kiss him. “Seriously, Jorge, do you trust them?”

”I’d think for the most part, yes, I would trust them. Off track at least,” he adds with another pout.

”Because I do, too. And I thought maybe we could provoke them to talk about it if we came out to them.”

Jorge almost chokes on his own breath, staring at Dani in utter disbelief now. “You’re kidding, right?”

”Nope,” Dani shakes his head lazily, locking their eyes with a look of determination and lust. “I’m dead serious.”

And Jorge’s reply is lost in a moan when the smaller rider’s hips grind against him and his head is pulled down for a kiss. _You better be kidding here, Pedrosa._

_Slow it down_  
 _Make it stop_  
 _Or else my heart is going to pop_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title/quotes from "The Show" by Lenka


	3. Last Nite

Marc could swear that Vale has been staring at him during that press conference. Every time he had looked up, the Italian’s eyes had been on him and then he’d lowered his gaze quickly, as if he felt caught. And maybe, just maybe, Marc has been staring, too, because he cannot seem not to look at Vale. Whatever is said, he just wants to, no, he needs to, check Valentino’s reaction. Inhaling deeply, he turns off the shower and in his head, he chides himself for agreeing to that meeting later. Of course, he couldn’t really say no, because Dani has invited him and Dani is still his hero. Even if getting along with Vale is easier as they’re just more similar, he still has an incredible amount of respect and awe for Dani and he’d never miss out on an opportunity to hang out – but them hanging out with both Yamaha riders seems like a strange idea. Okay, he knows Dani and Jorge have gotten along better than they used to lately. Same for Vale and Jorge. But still, they’ve never done something as a group and he isn’t really sure where Dani got the idea from. With an irritated frown still over his face, he starts dressing, checking his hair in the mirror and picking just the right pair of jeans, the ones that fit so snuggly and then, his back towards the mirror, neck turned awkwardly, a hand in his hair, he suddenly notices what he’s doing. _Why do I even care?_ His cheeks turn bright red as he realizes that while he’s been staring at his image in the mirror, he’d been wondering whether Vale would like it. And now that is slowly crossing the border of friendship. He’s quick to shake his head, trying to get the thoughts out of his head, once again blaming Alex forever mentioning anything remotely like that and praying that Vale won’t notice. Because even if Marc might admitting that in the very, very back of his head he might have a tiny, tiny crush on a certain Italian rider, he is nowhere near admitting that he wants anything _real_ between him and Vale. Leave alone the fact that he is absolutely sure that the older rider is 100% straight. For a second, he considers calling Alex – but then dismisses the idea quickly, deciding that this is something he won’t even discuss with his brother. He feels a mix of anxiety and relief when there’s a knock at his door, accompanied by Dani’s voice.

”Marc, are you coming along?”

Nodding to himself, he walks outside – but not without a final checking look into the mirror.

*

Vale is standing hidden in corner behind his own motorhome, cigarette in hand, head against the wall, thoughts lost somewhere. Mostly revolving around a young Spanish rider. A very talent rider. One that reminds him a lot of himself, that he feels somewhat honored to be racing against and that he is glad to call a friend. And one that has been occupying too much space in his head lately. Clearly, he cannot be having a crush on Marc Marquez and he can think of at least a dozen reasons why that’s simply an impossibility. Taking a deep drag from the cigarette, he stares into the cloudy sky, feeling a shiver run over his body in the cooler evening air. _Firstly, I am straight. I don’t like men. At least not in that way._ And secondly, and that is almost as important, he is well aware that Marc isn’t one or two or five but a total of fourteen years younger than him, which means he could very theoretically be Vale’s son. That’s just too weird. Besides, Marc is also straight, very straight in fact. Vale has seen him chat up hoards of girls, determinedly, skillfully, intentions always clear and they’ve laughed about some of his adventures together. So all in all, there is no way that he, Valentino Rossi, can possibly have a crush on Marc Marquez. 

Lazily, he sheds the rest of the cigarette, blows the last smoke into the air and makes his way back into his motorhome, determined to change. Only because it’s cooler than expected though, not at all because he had been thinking about a tighter fitting T-Shirt. And he laughs softly about his own behavior, well aware of how ridiculous it is and blaming Uccio, taking a mental note to take revenge for it eventually. Because surely, without that unnecessary remark, none of this would have started to swirl around in Vale’s head in the first place. In the end, he changes into that tighter T-Shirt though, and he’s nervous and empties half a bottle of water, only to have something to do, not wanting to show up at Jorge’s embarrassingly early and he curses himself for even agreeing to this meeting. Almost seems like some group date. Playstation with Pedrosa, Lorenzo and Marquez. He shudders. _Not sure Repsol and Yamaha PR people would like that now._ But how could he have refused? He’s just about back on friendly terms with Jorge and doesn’t want to risk that at any cost – and then, he admits very quietly to himself – any excuse to spend time with Marc is very welcome.

*

They had played a number of heated duels by now, everybody agitated, their faces flushed from being so engaged, so involved. Dani feels content when he glances over Marc and Vale, battling each other in another match, sitting close enough to have their knees and thighs touch and their arms bump into each other while they wave around with their controllers. Nudging Jorge carefully, he points his boyfriend to the obvious, both of them secretly winking at the other. But getting these two to actually acknowledge something, that could prove a challenge. Dani hasn’t forgotten the awkward beginning of the evening, when they had all been sitting there wordlessly, mostly staring to the ground, cheeks not red from the excitement of a game but from awkwardness. Now however, that has changed at least a little, even if they couldn’t help themselves with some alcohol as there’s practices coming up the next day. And his own guts are in a knot, still, because he’s nervous about the one thing he really wants to do tonight. Not only because of Vale and Marc actually, that’s one reason but not the entire truth. He needs them to be coming out at least to someone, because he feels like he is about to burst with happiness from having Jorge and because ideally, he could share his joy with the world and if that’s not possible, he would like to at least share it with some friends. And it has taken him days of preparation, of talking, of begging and explaining, before Jorge would agree, but he managed. So, after the next match has ended, Marc bursting into his usual loud jajaja and Vale only feigning the disappointment, Dani nudges Jorge again, their eyes locking, questioning. They’re both nervous, both shaky - but both nodding and Dani is holding his breath, hearing Jorge’s sharp inhale and feeling his heart thunder in a way it’s never done before when he leans over to press a kiss on Jorge’s mouth, relieved that the younger rider doesn’t pull away and even more so to feel an arm around his waist, pulling him in. And their eyes are still locked, not quite daring to look towards the couch yet and Dani tries to wordlessly convey his message, hand squeezing Jorge’s thigh. _Whatever the fallout may be, I love you so much._

_See, people they don't understand_   
_No, girlfriends, they can't understand_   
_Your grandsons, they won't understand_   
_On top of this, I ain't ever gonna understand..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song by The Strokes


	4. Bravest Everything

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying really hard to keep these stories fresh and new and to not be repetitive. So, just in case I ever used something that was yours, I'm very sorry, it was truly unintentional ♥ And if you feel like I'm writing the same stuff over and over, let me know, because I'm worried about that and I'm working hard to avoid that. ♥
> 
> Also, thank you SO MUCH for the awesome feedback ♥ It's massively appreciated :D

_When you are out there_   
_Doing what you do best_   
_You're my bravest everything_   


”Okay, that could have gone worse.” Dani curls up against Jorge’s side, his fingertips tracing Jorge’s jawline and the younger rider shivers from head to toe from the touch.

”It could. But it didn’t quite get them where we want them,” Jorge muses, hand on Dani’s back, fingers tracing gentle patterns.

Marc and Vale hadn’t reacted negatively, on the contrary. After that brief moment of – understandable – shock where both of them had been frozen on the couch, cheeks red, jaws dropped and controllers falling to the floor, they had only been positive about it. Surprised, yes, especially as they’d probably not expected to be the first ones they come out to, but not really surprised in a bad way. They’d hugged them and wished them the best and they’d asked about how long they’d been together, amazed that they’d been hiding _this_ for a year. And after a while of chatting, the FIFA games had resumed as if nothing ever happened. The apparent normality comes a little unexpected for Jorge, just like the feeling that there are people who _know_ all over sudden. But he sure is glad about it. Because, as usual, Dani is right, having _someone_ to talk to about this is a good thing. 

”It hasn’t worked yet. But maybe it does soon.” Dani presses a kiss to his ear, another shiver going down Jorge’s spine.

As far as he knows Dani, the smaller man will end up right again, as he always does. For the night, Marc and Vale had only kept shooting each other brief, insecure glances and that’s not totally new. It’s happened between them most of the time, only maybe a bit more frequently tonight, as if they were searching for the other’s response to the revelation. But it’s almost unbelievable that they don’t realize it, Jorge thinks, because alone the way they were sitting on that couch, not giving each other the slightest amount of personal space, that’s a huge thing. And it seems that Vale and Marc are totally oblivious.

”Dani?” He rolls to his side, pressing Dani close against his chest. “I’m so glad you were brave. It feels good to have been open about us for a night.”

”I wasn’t brave. I was terrified.” Dani’s voice comes out muffled against Jorge’s skin.

”But you did it and that makes you the bravest.” He presses a long kiss to his boyfriends head. "I can't believe we did that and now they know that I love you.”

*

Marc is lying in his bed, wide awake and nowhere near sleep, which is a bad idea on the Thursday before a race weekend. But the thoughts of the night’s events won’t let him rest. Dani Pedrosa had kissed Jorge Lorenzo right in front of him. And it might have been chaste in the beginning, but there definitely were tongues involved later. Even now, in his own bed, Marc closes his eyes and shakes his head at the memory. It’s unbelievable that they’ve hidden that for an entire year, that not one person in the paddock realized they usually shared their motorhome, that there haven’t been any pictures from Jorge’s prolonged stays in Geneva. He wouldn’t have thought that would be possible for two MotoGP riders. And that kiss, it had caused strange feelings in his guts, almost like there were suddenly butterflies in his stomachs. His heart had started to beat faster and he’d had gooseflesh all over his body. There had been a strange craving, a craving to turn his head, grab Valentino and try the same. And right now, he is not sure whether he had only been curious or if there might be something else behind that sudden desire. After all, he hadn’t been able to keep his eyes from the Italian afterwards, even if he tried to as best as he could.

He is well aware that Vale is not only a man, but also more than ten years older than him and he cannot imagine that the older rider would ever feel a serious interest for him, an immature almost teenager, lacking experience and life lessons, too giddy, too loud. And then he realizes that it’s past 3 am and he’s still not a single breath closer to sleep and that’s when he realizes that it’s serious. He’s having strange feelings for Valentino Rossi. Possibly he even has a crush on the Yamaha rider. And he sighs and tosses and turns under the sheets again, teeth gritted and eyes squeezed shut.

_Do I really want to kiss Vale like that? And would he kiss me back?_

*

It’s a bit too cold for this time of the year, he muses, lighting another cigarette, sitting crouched behind his motorhome now, the same spot he’s been standing in hours ago. His hands are shaky from the cold. And maybe a bit from nervousness, a state of anxiety that hasn’t left his system ever since he saw Jorge and Dani kiss. He doesn’t mind his friends being gay, not at all. He feels happy for them and he’s full of admiration and respect for how they’ve been dealing with it all the time and he’s strangely proud that he’s among the chosen few whom they selected to share their secret with, finding out before even their families know. No, Dani and Jorge being gay is not an issue. What is an issue though is that at the sight of them kissing, he’d felt a strange kind of envy, along with the yearning to lean over and do the same with Marc. Which, for reasons he’s been pondering over already, is rather ridiculous.

Blowing lines of thin grey smoke into the brisk air, the night sky being cloudy and rather dark in the absence of a moon, he sighs and stares at his feet. It’s strange what Marc has been doing to him, ever since the kid arrived in MotoGP. Sure, Vale keeps comparing them to a pair of brothers, but of course he’s aware that his feelings for Marc don’t really resemble his feelings for Luca. His need for Marc’s approval, the desire to look good for Marc, the notion of jealousy that sometimes runs through him when Marc chats up women, it can all be explained so easily, as clearly, he is developing a crush on the younger rider. But with the gender problem, the age gap, the fact that they’re in opposing MotoGP teams and a thousand other things, his crush is bound to be unrequited and he feels a dull ache at the realization. Over the course of the night, he’d been throwing these little glances at Marc, stolen some moments to marvel the younger man and it’s a somewhat painful realization that this will be it between him and the Spanish rider.

With his cigarette finished and his body shaky from the cold, he walks back inside, quickly shedding his clothes, a brief, wistful look going to the T-Shirt he’d put on, in a way, for Marc. In front of his eyes, he sees the image of Marc wearing his shirt, big, yellow 46 on his chest and the jolt going to his lap at the thought is definitely one of arousal. It’s close to 4 am when he falls into his sheets, feeling far away from getting a good night’s rest and he sighs, frustrated at his inability to shut his brain down.

_Do I really want to kiss Marc Marquez? And would he kiss me back?_

_Lovely, the world can be frightening_   
_You feel a little scared_   
_But you will get through it_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song by Yuna


	5. I love Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I usually don't mix POV so frequently, but for the last part, I really felt like I needed both of their perspectives. Sorry if it ends up confusing.

”So, you know how you asked me about Vale the other day?” 

“Hm.”

“What if I,” Marc chucked his beer, staring into the cloudless sky. “realized you were right?”

”What took you so long?”

”Alex, do you even understand what I’m trying to say?”

”If I’m not mistaken, you’re telling me that you have a thing for Valentino Rossi.” The younger shrugs.

”Don’t you think that’s a big thing?” Marc is getting impatient, Alex's apparent nonchalance irritating him.

”Why? He’s a nice guy, he’s good looking, he’s single.” Another shrug and Marc searches Alex’s voice for a sarcasm that’s just not there.

”Alex, I’m straight.”

”Oh really?” Well, this time there’s _a lot_ of sarcasm and Marc huffs.

”You know I am.”

”No, you’re not. You’re into Vale.”

”That’s not even funny, Alex.”

”What’s your problem, Marc? What’s really the problem? Because I don’t think my brother has problems with homosexuality, does he?” It’s the younger Marquez’s turn to be impatient, frown clear over his face.

And there’s a pause, one where Marc picks on some grass at his feet, listening to the sounds of birds and trees, breathing in the familiar smell of home, last summer or first autumn days in Cervera being beautiful and important. One last chance to breathe before the overseas trip. He contemplates for a while, not sure how much he wants to reveal to Alex, how many of these things he wants to be open about, things he’s come to realize over the past weeks, after that somewhat life-changing moment in Aragon that left his world upside-down and hasn’t allowed him to stop thinking ever since.

”The real problem is,” Marc takes a last deep breath, “that I seriously think I like him a lot and that I doubt very much that he feels the same way.”

”What makes you think so?” Of course Alex stays absolutely calm, not even batting an eyelid at his revelation.

”Alex, come on. It’s Vale.”

”Exactly, it’s Vale. One of the most open-minded people we know. What makes you think he wouldn’t?”

”I’m a man. I’m too young. I’m too short. And I don’t think he’ll want an immature kid and-“

”Stop,” Alex cuts him off, a hand on his arm and the gesture never fails to calm him down. _Best younger brother ever. Do I tell you that enough?_ “Stop, okay? Let me, a total outsider, tell you something, that way the BOTH of you keep looking at each other, that implies something totally, completely different. And you wouldn’t be a Marquez if you weren’t courageous enough to go for it.”

The thing he doesn’t know though, Marc admits to himself, is how you go for it with a man. Or what he should ever do, physically, about him and Vale. Because having a crush is one thing, wanting a relationship and anything that comes with that, is another thing. And he wonders whether calling Dani about this is an option.

*

“So, when you asked me about Marc-“ Vale trails off, eyes watching his hands, his fingers nervously fidgeting with a lighter.

”Hm?” Uccio seems determined to make this hard for him.

”What if you were right?”

”No if. I am right.”

”So I have a crush on a teenager?”

”He’s not a teenager anymore, Vale. And yeah, I think you do. I haven’t seen you look at anyone like that in a while.”

”But he’s a-“ Vale stares back at the lighter, incapable of saying it out loud.

”A what? A man?”

Uccio sounds like he’s making fun of him and Vale just nods vaguely, feeling his cheeks flush.

”So what? You don’t have problems with that, do you?”

”Not when other guys…” Vale gulps. “But not me?”

”Seriously?” There’s a lot of disbelief in Uccio’s voice, more than Vale would have expected.

”Kind of. And Marc is straight.”

They sit in silence for a while, Vale still staring at his hands, cheeks burning and Uccio just quiet, waiting, only sounds coming from some birds and the wind in the trees. One last, calm night at the ranch before they’re off overseas, Vale thinks to himself, sighing, bracing himself for exhausting times.

”You know,” Uccio says softly after a while, almost as if he’s not addressing him at all, “I think you wouldn’t have been world champion nine times if you were a coward.”

With that, he gets up and walks back inside, leaving Vale by himself, hanging after his own thoughts, that still revolve only around that one face, that one person. _The thing is though, even if, and I don’t really think he does, even if Marc feels like I do, what do we make out of it? I mean… it’s not like we can just have a relationship._ And he can hear the “Why not?” Uccio would reply to that in his head, but still, a relationship? In a way, that implies something physical. With another man. And even as a nine times world champion Vale isn’t sure he can do _that_. He does take a mental note to ask Jorge about it though. Only theoretically of course.

*

They’re hanging out in Vale’s motorhome, just like they’ve done countless times during race weekends, Fifa running on the Playstation, drinks on the table, laughter filling the room. Only that there’s a bit of a strange tension lingering in the room. A few glances, stolen, hidden, but definitely there and definitely nervous. Shaky hands that usually weren’t shaky. Laughs that were a bit more nervous than necessary, a bit too loud to be natural. Cheeks slightly pink. And the gap between them, that normally wasn’t there at all, both of them determinedly ignoring the concept of personal space, tonight the gap is noticeable and after the few occasions, where their arms or knees accidentally touch, they hurry apart as if the other burned. For the hundredth time, Marc curses that he hasn’t spoken to Dani yet – and next to him, Vale regrets not speaking to Jorge before this. 

”You know, Dani and Jorge… that’s pretty cool, isn’t it?” Marc barely manages to bring out the words and he hopes his voice hasn’t trembled as much as he felt it did.

”Yeah, they’re great together,” Vale nods, heart clenching at the mention of that moment and hands sweaty from the realization where their conversation is heading.

”Have you ever?” Marc feels his cheeks go crimson and he cannot possibly look at Vale now.

”Ever what?” His voice almost falters and Vale feels his mouth go dry, brain shutting down.

”Kissed a guy?” Marc bites his lip and his fingers clutch to his shirt. He gets up, heading for the fridge, heart beating relentlessly and feeling about to be nauseous, especially because it takes Vale too long to answer. He still has his head in the fridge, searching through the bottles.

”Nope. Never. You?”

Marc shakes his head, getting back up with a bottle of beer in his hand – even though it’s Thursday, because today, he couldn’t care less – eyes locking with Vale nervously only to find the Italian’s face just as pink and scared as he suspects his own looks.

Valentino takes the bottle from the younger man, opening it casually with a lighter and holding it back over, offering Marc the first sip, wordless agreement that they’d share made with a single look. His heart is beating his way out of his chest while he leans back against the counter, eyes on Marc. The strange feeling of butterflies and arousal is running through him again when he marvels the young man, whose head is leaning back, bottle at his lips, throat moving accordingly. _He has the body of a renaissance statue._ He watches the muscles move under the tight, black T-Shirt and gulps. And then, finally, Marc holds the bottle out to him and he takes it eagerly, lowering his gaze when Marc wipes his mouth with the back of his hands, giving the Italian inappropriate ideas.

”Want to try?”

Vale swallows the beer, a little too hastily, causing him to cough before he can reply breathlessly. “Try what?”

”Kissing another man.” That’s what dying must feel like, Marc thinks, because as soon as the words left his mouth, his heart feels as if it’s exploding in his chest.

”No kidding?”

”No kidding.” He shakes his head, whole body trembling though. 

”Okay.”

And Marc simply cannot believe it, as it’s the last answer he would have expected, but Vale definitely just agreed. He cannot believe that that’s actually on offer here and when he looks up into Vale’s face, he immediately looks for signs of a joke, but he cannot find any. Instead, the Italian rider stands there, looking beautiful, leaning on the worktop of the counter and he’s looking at Marc with serious eyes, serious with a little, unreadably sparkle of something.

It’s Marc who closes the gap between them, coming to stand directly in front of the other rider, both of them evading each other’s gaze, chests almost touching, legs weak as pudding. And then, as if there had been an inaudible signal, their heads move closer together, their mouths finally touching, gently at first, with a bit more pressure after, lips parting hesitantly and their tongues actually find each other, briefly playing, before, again in complete synch, they both pull their head backs, eyes locking nervously for a split-second. Then, Vale wordlessly takes another sip of the beer, handing the bottle back to Marc and returns to sit on the couch, leaving Marc standing there, lost in thoughts, tiny incredulous smile around his lips. And they don’t know it, but they’re both thinking the exact same thing. _So that’s what butterflies really feel like._

_I love Love_   
_I love being in love_   
_I don’t care what it does to me_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title/quotes from Inches & Falling by The Format  
> Slight inspiration for the kiss: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y80CjCOz_gE After five minutes ;) Nope, I'll never advertise that movie often enough, plus, at the very end, after their kiss, the song that plays is Navidad en el country, which the Mar readers came across already :)


	6. Cry To Me

Marc stands there for a bit longer, absentmindedly wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes on Vale who is staring at the TV, but he doubts that the Italian watches anything from the strange game show that’s running. _You look like you regret it._ The thought hurts. A lot. Not only because it took a lot of bravado to basically ask for that kiss, but mostly because Marc _liked_ that kiss. More than he really wants to admit even. Vale’s lips had been so soft and they tasted a bit like cigarettes and beer but also a bit just like, well, Vale. The only thing weird about it had been the stubble – but he wouldn’t call it _bad-weird_ , it felt just a little _new-weird_. But the way Vale is sitting there, slightly slumped, eyes avoiding him, Marc is pretty sure that it wasn’t as good for the Italian as it was for him. And that makes it not only a brave idea, but also a very stupid idea. If anything, his crush has grown – and his chances of ever getting a bit of Vale, the way he seems to suddenly want him, are slimmer than ever.

It’s difficult to hide the resignation, even as a Marc Marquez. His sad, disappointed or angry side is something he usually hides well, mostly under the helmet, only taking it off when he’s ready to fake his way through things with a smile. Only, here in Vale’s motorhome, there’s no way he can hide under a helmet and he ends up using the bathroom, splashing a bit of cool water to his face that he found blushed and taking a number of deep breaths. As much as he tries, the “I don’t care about that rejection because I didn’t really want you anyway” conviction doesn’t quite get into his brain. Alex would probably tell him to go and fight – but right now, he cannot really see a reason to do so, cannot imagine Vale ever being interested in him. Unless he wants to raise suspicions though, he really has to get out there again, and so he does, his best attempts at a smile included and straightening his shoulders with determination.

The rest of the evening feels a little awkward. Or very awkward. Even more awkward than before, with an even more distinct gap between them and a lot of nervous laughter while they’re watching a mindless movie that they’ve both seen before. There’s a few instants where their arms accidentally brush against each other when they reach for their drink at the same time and every time it happens, Marc notices that Vale pulls away as if he had been bitten and each and every time it sends a sting to Marc’s heart, making it harder and harder to look content and relaxed. In the end, he makes his excuses earlier than usual and Vale seems a little relieved when he takes him to the door to say goodbye. Which isn’t exactly a good sign either. The way back to his motorhome, through the cool air that makes him shiver, feels like a true walk of shame and he does open another beer before he goes to sleep, drinking it while sitting on his bed, staring at the black TV and feeling too paralyzed to even grab the remote. _Isn’t it funny how a few weeks ago, we were the best friends ever and now, because of a couple of stupid remarks, I’m having the heartache of my life because of a guy. A man. Who is too old for me. And straight. And anyway._

After staring at the ceiling for almost an hour without finding any sleep, he finally gives in and takes out his phone, typing a message, hoping he won’t be rejected a second time tonight.

_Are you still up?_

_Yeah, barely. You okay?_

_Not so much. Can we talk?_

_NOW?_

_Please? I kissed Vale._

_Give me a minute._

Well, that worked out better than expected then and it really doesn’t take much longer than a minute before someone knocks at his door.

”Hey, thanks for coming over. I mean, I know it’s late and-“ He’s stammering and only too glad when he’s interrupted now, the other brushing past him and closing the door, then standing in front of him with a frown on his face.

”Don’t worry about it. I figured you wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important and it sure sounded like it is urgent. And actually,” Two dark eyes scrutinize his face, making him squirm slightly, “you look like it’s very urgent. Don’t say you cried?”

*

Vale knows he could have dealt with that a whole lot better. He could have said no to begin with. _Now that would have been a much, much better idea._ Or he could have laughed it off. Or… but actually, he cannot come up with anything else. Either way, sitting there brooding for the rest of the evening certainly hadn’t been a smart move because he’s quite sure Marc can now guess pretty well what the kiss has done to him. Or how much it confused him and put him out of his comfort zone. It’s frustrating him to no ends that he is falling so easily, that from having a good friend and buddy on the grid, he’s now turning into an old man with a ridiculous crush on a successful young rider. _Creepy, that’s what I’d call it if it was someone else. Far older than thirty and stalking a teenager. Or not quite a teenager anymore, but anyway. Creepy._ It’s difficult to admit, even to himself, just how good that kiss felt. Soft lips, tender touch, Marc tasting like beer and peppermint and he’d suddenly smelled Marc so well, a wonderful mix of aftershave and shampoo and hot skin that he probably will have in his nose until the end of his days. And he feels like growling with frustration while he’s lying here, on his bed, in complete darkness and utterly unable to sleep, consumed by thoughts of the last person he should be craving in _that_ way.

And it’s not as if he hadn’t noticed just how hard Marc has tried to return to normality afterwards and he regrets his own inability to do that, because he feels like he jeopardized their friendship with his childish reaction to a supposedly innocent kiss. After all, Marc has never left that early after one of their movie nights or Playstation nights. _Dammit. He just wanted to try something totally harmless out of curiosity and my stupid crush makes it an impossible barrier now._ He remembers feeling that spark of hope when Marc initiated the kiss, that moment where he had thought that maybe, only maybe, the younger man might reciprocate his feelings. But then, when Vale was sitting there, trembling and dizzy, butterflies running havoc in his stomach, Marc hadn’t even followed him back to the couch, hadn’t said anything, just wiped his mouth and left for the bathroom, the reaction feeling like being punched in the guts for the Italian rider. _My fault though. Should have known better._

Checking his phone he finds it’s close to midnight, but sleep won’t come and he surrenders to his confusion, acknowledges that he won’t get over this by himself and switches the light back on. _I hope you're still awake, though I guess you have better things to do._

_Can I talk to you?_

_You should be asleep. What happened?_

_We kissed._

_Who is we?_

_Marc and me._

_I’ll be there in a minute._

Admittedly, he hadn’t expected that reaction but he’s more than glad when really, after a short moment, there’s someone knocking at the motorhome. 

”Hey, thank you. I know it’s pretty late.” He holds the door open, letting the other enter and then joins him on the couch.

”So… explain. What went wrong?”

”How do you know it went wrong? I haven’t said anything.”

”Because we don’t usually talk at midnight before free practice. Because we’re talking and you’re not with Marc, making out on this very couch. And because,” he hears him inhale sharply, “this is the first time in a few years where I see you and you have obviously just cried.

_When you're waiting for a voice to come_  
 _In the night but there's no one_  
 _Don't you feel like crying? (Cry to me)_


	7. Cigarettes & Chocolate Milk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Totally not updating this over lunch. *shakes head in denial* Excuse possible format fail, posting from phone is tricky.

Their phones buzz at the same second and considering the time, it better be urgent. Jorge reads – and reads again. And he knows exactly who texted Dani then as well. Shaking his head, he types the reply, Dani doing the same, their eyes meeting with a wink briefly, before the phones buzz again. And again. 

”So,” Jorge gets up, rummaging for his jeans, while Dani is already looking for a shirt, “let me guess. You’re going to talk to Marc.”

”Mhm,” Dani’s voice is muffled, the smaller rider’s head caught in a hoody. “Yes. And you’re seeing Vale?”

”Yup. They kissed?”

”Apparently.”

”At least part of your plan worked then,” Jorge presses a peck to Dani’s hair, grabbing Dani’s spare key and getting ready to go outside.

”Part of my plan?” He smiles at the pout in Dani’s face and nods.

”Well, it cannot have gone too well if they’re talking to us now and not to each other.”

*

”Chocolate milk?” Marc holds out a cup to him and it’s so adorable that Dani just wants to squeal.

Instead, he nods and tries to suppress a giggle over a 21 years old world champion offering him hot chocolate in the middle of the night while discussing his heartache. They both sit on Marc’s couch, holding their mugs then, wordlessly waiting for the drinks to cool down a bit and Dani is seriously struggling not to laugh about the surrealism and cuteness of this. 

”You kissed Vale?” He asks once he’s sure he can keep his voice steady, taking a sip of the still steaming drink.

”Yes.” He sees Marc’s cheeks blush and feels another “aww” running through his body, almost making him grin again.

”And you liked it?”

”I don’t know.”

”Liar.”

”That obvious?”

”Actually, yeah. You’re all pink. And you wouldn’t have texted me if there hadn’t been something.”

”Mhm. True.” Marc nods, putting the cup down and leaning back, eyes fixing some point in the distance. “I think I liked it. Maybe more. I’m confused. Like, when I see a hot girl, it’s different, you know? Vale doesn’t really make me go “yeah, I want to fuck you senseless”. Not at all. But it still felt, well, better in way, better than kissing a girl. Because it was Vale. And I think I like Vale. And-“ the younger stops cold, shaking his head and continues with a slightly desperate voice, “Oh my God, I’m not even making any sense here. Please stop me from saying all these ridiculous things.”

This time, Dani cannot stop himself from laughing briefly, but Marc doesn’t seem to mind.

”Don’t worry,” he puts a hand on Marc’s knee, trying to reassure him a little, “I understand. Really.”

”How did you know when you met Jorge? I mean, did you know you were gay?” Dani sees Marc’s face turn dark red and the young man’s helplessness is beyond cute.

”I don’t think I’m gay. I’ve had girlfriends, too. And I found them hot and loved them and had great sex with them, you know? So, if any label, then I think bisexual suits me better. And I knew that already when things with Jorge started, I’ve had a crush on a man before. So, I guess we had it a bit easier than you and Vale.”

”And Jorge?”

”Jorge? I think you’d have to ask him? But he knew he liked men. And even so we both KNEW, we still needed a bit of time to admit that to each other. Or a lot of time.”

”So that press conference, the marriage thing, that wasn’t a joke?”

The memory is enough to put a broad, dreamy smile on Dani’s face and he shakes his head.

”No, that was Jorge flirting. With success, I must say. But back to you… what happened after the kiss that made you cry and text me?”

”I think Vale hated it.”

_I can’t really tell you that… but if he hadn’t liked it, I doubt my boyfriend would be with him, holding his hand, like, right now._

*

”Cigarette?” Vale holds the box out to him and Jorge sighs wearily but takes one, taking a mental note to blame the Italian for any trouble this might cause him. 

And to blame Dani. Because in the end, it’s only Dani’s fault that he’s here, playing therapist in the middle of the night, freezing in a corner behind Vale’s motorhome.

”So you and Marc.”

”He wanted to kiss a man. And I agreed. And dammit, Jorge, it was good.”

”Why is that a problem?” He sighs, suppressing a yawn, shivering and internally still cursing Dani and his stupid idea.

”Because it was just casual for him.”

”What makes you think so?” _Actually, I doubt that because he’s most definitely pouring his heart out to my boyfriend while we’re speaking here._

”He only wanted to try kissing a man, that’s what he said. He was just curious. And afterwards, he wiped his mouth and went to the bathroom. And then he was the same as always. And Jorge, imagine how creepy it would be, me, chasing an innocent boy.”

”Really,” Jorge snorts and lets out a dry chuckle,” Marc Marquez is a lot of things, but not an innocent boy. Vale, come on!” And he looks at Vale and the desperation on the Italian’s face and he realizes that the older rider really has it bad. _Which makes Dani right. Again._

”It’s creepy,” Vale insists, stepping out his cigarette and leaning against the back of his motorhome, eyes staring into the sky.

”That’s ridiculous and you know that." Jorge takes a deep breath, readying himself for a speech he's not sure he can give to Valentino Rossi, nine-times world champion and a fair bit older than Jorge himself. "Vale, he’s a grown up man. I mean, he's grown up under our eyes and in way, he passed most of us with ease. And I think before you assume what he does or doesn’t feel, the two of you should talk. Because you know what, if this had been anyone else, you’d have been well aware that the idea of being _curious to kiss a man _is a pretty lame pick up line.”__

*

”Hey, you’re back.” Dani breaks into a wide smile when he enters his motorhome to find Jorge, obviously just back himself and in the process of stepping out of his shoes.

”Mhm. Remind me again why I agreed to this whole matchmaking thing? Because this heartache thing isn’t really mine, you know?”

Dani hangs up his coat and feels himself pulled in a hug from behind, Jorge’s mouth pressing kisses to his neck.

”Simple,” Dani says, turning in the taller man’s hold and pressing a peck to his mouth, “you love me.”

”True, true.” Jorge’s hands wander under his shirt but Dani stops him.

”Wait, wait. First I want to know what’s up with Vale. Heartache?”

”Mhm, he’s fallen deep.” Jorge’s hands try to sneak under Dani’s clothes again and this time, the smaller man playfully whacks the hand away.

”Really?” He cannot keep the excitement from his voice.

”Yes, really. What about Marc?” He hears Jorge’s voice growing impatient and grins.

”Same. Absolutely same.” Dani leans closer, head against Jorge’s shoulder, relaxing into the embrace.

”Dani?” And the way Jorge’s voice vibrates through his body is sending wonderful shivers down Dani’s spine.

”Mhm?” He mumbles into Jorge’s neck, feeling held and warm and content.

”If I admit that you were right all along, will you finally let me undress you and take you to bed?”

_cigarettes and chocolate milk_   
_these are just a couple of my cravings_   
_everything it seems i like's a little bit stronger_   
_a little bit thicker_   
_a little bit harmful for me_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song by Rufus Wainwright


	8. A Moment of Madness

”Talked to Marc yet?” Jorge finally manages to corner Vale in the garage, no observers, no secret listeners as far as he can judge.

”No, we haven’t planned anything else this weekend. It’s kind of busy.” Vale shrugs, turning to leave.

”You have to talk though.” _Why did I say that? And why do they have to? Dammit, Dani!_

”Nah, I think we’ll just, I don’t know. Wait a week and hope that in Australia, we don’t remember and can keep being friends.” The Italian turns to leave and Jorge stays behind, speechless. _That doesn’t really sound like you, Vale._

*

”Have you talked to Vale?” Dani is bursting with curiosity, he’s been waiting all day to ask, desperately searching for that perfect occasion to catch Marc by himself.

”No, no way.” Marc shakes his head determinedly, making the smaller rider cringe.

”Why?”

”It wouldn’t lead anywhere, would it?” And Marc turns away with a shrug, walking over to Santi for some telemetry sheets.

*

And he really doesn’t get to talk to Vale anymore, because the weekend is a busy one. Not that they’re plain out avoiding each other, but they’re not seeking each other out either and it hurts a bit, though he won’t admit that to anyone. He’d thought about the kiss every night and countless times during the days as well, sometimes catching himself staring at the Italian, hoping it wasn’t too obvious to anyone else. It’s all irrelevant on Sunday though, because there’s just no words to describe _that_ and of course he’s lucky to share it with Vale, savoring every second of that podium, a stolen, wistful glance at the way the older rider looks, gorgeous as ever after a race, ruffled and sweaty and incredibly happy. Actually, for an instant, he thinks Vale looks proud. Possibly affectionate. Then he blinks and looks away and the next time he looks, it’s back to normal cheery-ness. But he’s too overrun with adrenaline and joy right now, wound up from everything, Alex’s and Santi’s staged scenes just perfect and everything else just as mind-blowing. So he cannot be bothered too much and he’s sure nobody expects anything else. It’s not until after the team-celebration, when, still in his leathers, sticky and soaked with champagne, possibly beyond tipsy, he calms down a bit, deliberately choosing to walk back to his motorhome by himself to unwind and let everything sink in. And it does sink in – inconveniently bringing the memories of Vale on that podium and their kiss back up. Maybe it’s the adrenaline that’s still left in his blood. Or it’s the alcohol. Or the complete exhaustion that suddenly hits him. Maybe all of the above. Either way, he doesn’t stop in front of his motorhome and just keeps going that little bit further, way ever so familiar. It doesn’t occur to him that it’s past midnight and since the person he’s visiting is living in their own time zone, it certainly wouldn’t matter. In front of the door, a door he has knocked against countless times before, he suddenly feels at least as nervous as he does before the start of a race. It’s completely ridiculous, he thinks, the way his blood is rushing and his hands are shaking, completely ridiculous.

*

Vale is lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking about nothing and everything when he hears the knock that makes him jump to his feet. Immediately, his heart starts thundering and he feels his legs getting wobbly, because only one person around the paddock would do this, tonight, at this time. Only one. And that’s the first and last person he wants to see right now at the same time. Wriggling into a T-Shirt, he makes his way to the door, taking a last deep breath before he holds it open, the expected freshly crowned world champion on his doorstep, still in leathers and completely soaked in champagne. And it’s not helping, because it’s making him look insanely hot, Vale thinks, with the black, damp streaks of hair clinging to his forehead and the glistening skin of his face. 

”Hi Marc!” It seems like a lame thing to say, but then he has congratulated already and what else is there to say?

”Hey Vale! I know it’s late, can I come in anyway? I really want to celebrate with you!” The younger rider sounds a bit drunk, a bit bratty and very cheery and it’s not like Vale could ever have denied him a wish anyway.

”Sure, sure. There must be some champagne in my fridge.” He steps aside to let Marc pass, trying in vain to drag his eyes away from Marc’s ass in these damned leathers.

”Oh no, no champagne. I want a beer.” _Maybe more than a bit bratty._

”You sure? The mix is going to kill you!” Vale follows him to the fridge, squeezing his eyes shut and biting his lips when the younger leans down to fish the bottles out. _God, what’s wrong with me? I didn’t stare at you in that way two weeks ago. Or did I?_ Because slowly, Vale has been starting to wonder whether in the end, the attraction and affection had always been there and he’d really just needed Uccio to realize.

”Totally sure.” Marc hands him a bottle of beer, pulling him out of his daydreaming and they walk over to the couch. “Oh, I should take this off, right? They’re so sticky, they’d ruin the couch.”

And before Vale even gets a chance to say a word, to stop this from happening, Marc is putting the bottle down and wriggling out of his leathers, in the end sitting on Vale’s couch in boxer briefs and a T-Shirt. _Not helping. Totally not helping._ Vale clinks their bottles and drowns most of his with a single gulp, despair taking over.

”So, that kiss-“ Marc slurs slightly and trails off while Vale snorts a bit of his beer to the floor and stares at the younger rider with his jaw dropped. “That was a pretty good kiss, huh?”

Valentino knows that he has to answer. And he has about a thousand ideas of things he would like to answer, mostly something like _Yeah, it was great. Let’s do it again, shall we?_. Only, right now, despite the beer, his mouth is dry. Completely dry. And his brain won’t transfer any words. Also, he’s not that kind of guy, right? He won’t take advantage of his best, much younger friend being drunk. He wouldn’t, right?

”I mean, it’s ridiculous, you know?” Marc starts again. “You’re a guy and all. And my friend. And I’m sorry I made things awkward. Shouldn’t have asked you for that.” Marc nods to himself, taking another sip of beer. “But you know, it did feel good, like really good. Should have known though, right, of course Valentino Rossi is a great kisser.”

Marc isn’t looking at him, only staring straight through the room and Vale has hardly heard anything he said after _feel good_ , his brain in an incredulous state immediately. _Did you say that because you’re drunk? Or are you one of those drunk people who suddenly tell the truth? Are you drunk at all?_ Thoughts are spinning and Vale drains his bottle, secretly marveling Marc’s biceps and awing the way his face looks, so lost in thoughts and dreamy. _Feel good, huh?_ Part of him wants to pull the other closer and try again, while the rest of him wants to run for cover, because clearly, this isn’t supposed to be happening. After a moment of silence, he puts his bottle down, Marc following his example and then their eyes meet and Vale falls again, biting down on his lip hard enough to draw blood only to hold himself back from saying something he’ll regret later.

”Can I crash here? I don’t want to be alone right now.”

There’s a shrill alarm in Vale’s head, telling him not to do this and he should tell him to go to Alex or even Dani, but all he ends up doing is nodding and pressing out a very hoarse “sure”. Which has them end up in his bedroom soon after, because Marc automatically assumed he’d sleep there and Vale doesn’t have the heart to send him to the couch and when, changed into his T-Shirt for the night and down to his boxers, the Italian moves to take the couch himself, Marc’s hand closes around his wrist firmly.

”Not what I meant,” the younger rider whispers and Vale gulps, body suddenly shivering.

He’s so deep under Marc’s spell, he cannot even resist, instead, he just gives in, turning off the lights and crawling under the sheets next to the other man, hands soon clasped under the sheets, staring at the ceiling, wishing he could hug him or, alternatively, run away. The Italian’s brain is on overload, no clear thoughts left, only the feeling of Marc’s hand in his and he wonders, if the other Is asleep already. Until he feels him stir and then, no warning, no nothing, he feels him cup his face, turn it and then these soft, delicious lips are pressing against his. _I hope this is just a dream._

_I could listen all night_   
_I can't leave till we kiss_   
_It's a moment of madness_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song by Katie Melua


	9. Shame

_And although we couldn't say it_  
 _I think we know we can't go back this time_

If he had any doubts before, they’re gone now: Kissing Marc Marquez is really, truly wonderful. Vale moans into their kiss and they shuffles simultaneously, both on their sides, foreheads against each other, arms around each other. It’s warm and comfortable and so incredibly intimate. When they finally break apart, both slightly breathless, Marc snuggles up against him and Vale instinctively wraps his arm closer around the smaller man.

”Thank you.” He hears Marc’s muffled voice, feels the hot breath on his chest. “Goodnight, Vale.”

”Goodnight.” Judging by his breathing, Marc is already asleep or close and Vale adds a soft, “Babychamp”, before he rests his head on the pillow and closes his eyes, sleep coming surprisingly easily tonight..

*

It’s the sound of retching that wakes Vale. In the complete darkness and with a heavily pounding head, he needs some moments to catch up with everything and to understand what he’s hearing and why. The realization, memories just flooding his brain, makes him smile somewhat fondly, acknowledging that Marc has never been known to hold alcohol too well. He turns on the small lamp next to the bed and with a sigh, makes it to the bathroom, finding a double world champion crouched in front of his toilet, looking miserable. 

”Hey there, champ, are you okay?”

”Oh God, Vale, no. Go away.”

Vale has to hold back a giggle, Marc blushing adorably and when the retching returns, he kneels down next to Marc, holding a cool cloth against his neck and he stays there, with the younger rider, until he seems to be through it. _Anyone else, even Uccio, I’d have killed, but you… you’re just adorable, even like this._ Vale cleans Marc’s face, getting rid of the sheen of sweat, steadies him while he brushes his teeth with a spare toothbrush and helps him back into the bed, where the young rider curls up on his side immediately, releasing a helpless whimper but, Vale assumes Marc is profiting from the benefits of the youth, soon after, the younger is breathing evenly and seems to be sound asleep. For Vale though, sleep is nowhere in sight now and instead, he stays propped up on his side, watching Marc, full of fascination for how young and peaceful he looks right now, sleeping with all guards down. _That innocence. It's killing me every time. I’m in too deep… way too deep._ With trembling fingers, he reaches out, fingertips softly brushing over Marc’s face, tracing his jawline, running through his hair – until he stops cold, shocked to realize what exactly he is doing there. _Dear Lord, I’m totally taking advantage here._

*

 _Maybe I’m dying?_ Marc wakes up with his head feeling worse than ever, pounding, throbbing, aching so bad that he sees stars dance in front of his eyes. And when he blinks his eyes open, he notices that he is not in the right motorhome. And he’s only wearing boxers. Also, he’s not alone. He recognizes the motorhome though and carefully turning his hurting head, he confirms his worst suspicions, he also knows the person next to him. At least, Vale is still wearing a T-Shirt. While he sits up slowly, feeling his stomach twist and turn at the action, the memories of last night slowly return, images from him on Vale’s couch and him attacking Vale with a kiss and him on Vale’s bathroom floor, the older holding his head over the toilet. And it feels as if his cheeks were on fire, because he’s just so desperately ashamed over everything he has done. There’s no way Vale will ever want to continue hanging out with him after _that_ and no way they'll ever look into each other's eyes again. 

His eyes wander over the older rider’s face, each line, each spot, each hair of his brows or lashes seeming familiar and the way he’s unraveled in his sleep just gorgeous. With a sigh, he reaches over, his fingertips running through Vale’s hair, pulling away quickly when the other stirs a bit under the touch. _God, if I stay any longer I’ll do more things that I’ll only regret later._ Against the pain and nausea, he gets up quickly now, gathering his clothes and dressing, eventually sneaking out the back door. _I hope we’ll both forget this night eventually. I can’t even believe I was stupid enough to do anything like this._ And Marc really cannot believe he did this to their friendship again. In the back of his head he knows one thing for sure now though: Kissing Valentino Rossi is breathtaking.

*

Vale wakes up with the light of dawn coming in already and he’s not surprised to find the rest of the bed empty. _I can’t blame you, would have done just the same myself._ He sighs and shakes his head, slowly making it to the shower, hoping that he can rinse of some of the feelings that are haunting him. His cheeks blush over the memory, the Italian knowing well that he most definitely took advantage of Marc being drunk and it’s embarrassing him a lot. _I’m not that guy. I’m not some creepy old man stalking young riders. Really not._ The hot water runs down his body and he sighs into the stream, wanting, hoping to forget and regretting everything, because right now, it feels as if he will never be able to look into Marc's beautiful dark eyes ever again.

*

In the safety of his own motorhome, Marc hurries under the shower, turning the water to extra hot, waiting for his skin to start burning under the stream. Hopefully, that will clean up something. Though it most certainly won’t clear him off the shame, that horrible shame after Valentino had seen him in that condition. It that Italian super hero of his just wasn’t so beautiful. Maybe then he could keep his thoughts and actions in check. But with the way he feels for Vale at the moment, it’s bound to end in disaster. Marc shakes his head, regretting it immediately when the pain runs through him. _I will just stay away from you for a bit. Give it some time. And then this stupid crush will be over and we can be friends again. Finally._

_All this time I thought I knew myself_  
 _But once again I bury my head in shame_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song by Monrose (don't judge me too hard... ;) )


	10. Realize

They are most definitely avoiding each other this time, their paths hardly crossing those first days in Australia and whenever they can’t avoid it, their eyes evade each other’s gaze determinedly. Marc is glad about it, because the mere knowledge that Vale is close to him is enough to make his cheeks heat up and his mouth go dry. He still can’t believe what he did and he cringes at the memories every time they inevitably creep back into his head. And of course he’s been naïve enough to think nobody else would notice. But now, sat over Friday’s late dinner, both of them on the couch, pizza on the coffee table, Playstation paused, Alex suddenly nudges him and asks the question that makes him go pink in his face.

”What happened with you and Vale after the celebration at Motegi?”

”Nothing.” He stares at his piece of pizza, trying to pretend it's okay as good as he can.

”I don’t think so. You can’t even look at him.”

And he wants to say that it’s not true, that Alex is imagining things. Or that it’s none of his business, but with a feeling of fatalism and resignation, he lets out a deep exhale and starts to explain, even though he isn’t sure talking about this is a good idea.

”Okay. So I went to his motorhome, rather drunk, we hang out, I kissed him, threw up into his toilet, he held my hand, took me to bed and when I woke up, I left.”

”Wow.” _Exactly. Wow._ “That’s rude!”

Slightly incredulous, searching for a joke he doesn’t find, Marc stares at his brother.

”Rude?”

”He’s been nothing but sweet and you just left? I’d call that rude!”

”Do you think he’d rather have woken up next to me?”

”Seriously? You’re seriously asking that?”

Marc nods, irritated by the sting in his younger brother’s voice.

”Marc! He let you into his motorhome after midnight, he kissed you back. Twice. He went into the same bed with you. And he didn’t even kick you out when you got sick. Dammit, what else does he have to do for you to realize that he likes you? _Likes_ likes, actually. Really, you cannot be that oblivious?”

Marc doesn’t reply, his head spinning from the jolt of understanding and he absentmindedly keeps chatting with Alex until they’ve finished their pizza.

”Is it okay if I leave now? I have to talk to someone!”

Alex looks surprised for an instant, but then just shrugs and nods and Marc wanders off. _Please be home._

*

They’re having dinner in a small restaurant, somewhat privately. At least, no one dared to ask for a selfie yet. Uccio has been eyeing him curiously all evening and as much as he tries to be casual about it, Vale knows himself that he’s squirming under the other’s eyes.

”There’s something wrong with you and Marc.” It’s not even a question, just a statement.

”No.” He can at least try to get away with it, he thinks, waiving over the waitress to order espresso for both of them.

”Yes. And it has to do with last weekend, I think. Don’t lie to me, what did you do?”

”I-“ He lowers his head, eyes on the tablecloth. “I might have taken advantage.”

”You’re kidding me!”

”No.” Vale starts playing with his watch. “No, I’m not. He came to have a beer at mine and kissed me and then I went to bed with him. And I touched him.”

”What?” Uccio frowns, eyes confused and squinting.

”Yeah, he threw up, I held him, helped him, took him back to bed. And when he was asleep, I started touching his face.”

”So?” He sees his friend raise an eyebrow and he's growing frustrated that the other just won't understand.

”He was drunk. I am old.”

”That doesn’t even make sense, Vale." Uccio's voice is getting impatient, Vale knows the change in tone well. "And seriously, do you think he’d mind?”

”I don’t know. I’m scared. I don’t think it was okay. And he’s not looking at me, so I think he regrets kissing me and that’s horrible.”

Uccio giggles and Valentino glares at him, full of disbelief that his best friend is making fun of him.

”Sorry,” Uccio must have noticed the disapproval, “but Vale, I don’t think he’s regretting _that_ part of the night. Imagine that happening to you, vomiting all over your hero’s bathroom. Wouldn’t you feel ashamed?”

For an instant, his mind goes blank, Uccio’s words ringing in his head that is getting a grasp of everything, things slowly being processed in his brain.

”Your _hero’s_ bathroom?” He has problems keeping his voice firm, stopping the shakiness.

”Vale, really. He said he had your posters in your room. And do you really think he’d have kissed you again, drunk or not, if he hadn’t wanted just that?”

”Hm.” He stays with Uccio for a bit longer, wordless, thoughts on a rollercoaster, before he puts some money on the table and locks gazes with his friend.

”Can I leave you here with the bill? I think I have to talk to someone.”

”Sure. No problem.” Uccio just gives him a knowing smile and Vale leaves, hurriedly grabbing his coat. _I hope you’re home._

_If you just realize what I just realized,_  
 _Then we'd be perfect for each other_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song by Colbie Caillat


	11. Fade Into You

”Same procedure as last time?” Dani looked up at him expectantly, sliding his phone back into his pocket.

”Same procedure as every time.” Jorge nods, pressing a kiss into his hair and then moves to usher the smaller rider to the door. “Now get going, you’re on a mission, Pedrosa.”

”Yeah, a mission of loooove.” Dani turns around a final time, dirty smirk all over his face and blowing him a kiss and Jorge is caught between chuckling and melting, returning the gesture.

_No idea how you knew, but it was a good idea after all._ The Majorcan smiles to himself, getting back into his motorhome, flicking through a magazine and waiting for the knock. And he doesn’t have to wait long, barely finishing an article.

”Hey, erm, thanks for-“ The Italian on his doorstep stops midsentence, blushing, apparently not finding the words for what exactly he is thankful for.

”Sure, always.” Jorge waves him inside and they end up on the couch, both nursing a bottle of water – aware that it’s the middle of a race weekend - and a somewhat awkward silence is surrounding them.

Jorge wishes he knew what to say, but he isn’t sure what this is about at all, as Vale had only asked him for a meeting with his text earlier, not specifying why he wanted to do so – even though Jorge could make an educated guess.

”So, you and Marc?” Bluntness. Bluntness usually works best in these situations, surprise often getting good results and he fascinatedly watches Valentino Rossi blush. _Aww._

”I think we might like each other?”

Jorge bites down on his lip, suppressing a giggle and another _aww_ , Vale in this state of uncertainty and shyness just being too adorable to bear.

”So you might like each other.” He tries an encouraging squeeze of the other's knee.

”Maybe. But-“ Vale stops, staring at him with almost scared eyes.

”But…?” The Majorcan raises an eyebrow.

”What do we do about that now?” 

*

”Dani, are you home?” Dani walks over to the door, checking around him if things are clean enough, because he kind of wants to make a good impression, Marc not having been in his motorhome very many times before. Because they’re friendly around each other - but not friendly enough to hang out lot. At least not until rather recently.

”Sure, come in.” He opens the door, taller rider in white Repsol shirt smiling down at him nervously.

”I think I need someone to talk to.” The younger walks inside, dropping down on a chair and Dani inhales sharply before he takes the seat next to him.

”I figured that much. About Vale?”

”Erm – yes. Dani?”

”Mhm?” He looks at the younger man, eyebrows raised, heart pounding from the anticipation of how much Marc will bring up here.

”I like Vale.” And his cheeks burn from saying it and it looks adorable.

”I know.” _And believe me, I know it’s not as simple as the sound of that._

”I think he might like me, too.” _You have no idea, kiddo._

”I’m sure he does.”

”And what do we do now?”

*

”What if he never dares starting anything ever again? I’ve pushed him away twice already.”

”He will, don’t worry.”

”How can you be so sure?”

_Because my boyfriend has a plan._

*

”Marc, if you actually want to kiss him again, you’ll have to start it.”

”Why?”

”Because he’s more than ten years older than you and won’t feel comfortable being the one initiating things.”

”Seriously?”

_Yes. Seriously. Listen to me, kid, dammit._

*

It’s a bit after midnight when he goes back towards his own motorhome, contemplating over Dani’s words on his way. It does make sense in the end. And then, Dani is probably a whole lot better at _these things_ than he is himself. Because before Vale, if he’s honest, he’s mostly had casual hook ups. With girls. Never with guys. And that last part still freaks him out. Valentino is a man. And Marc isn’t into men. But he is into Vale. And that’s complicated. But for now, for this one night, maybe he can forget about that, forget about any implication it has for their future or anything else and do just what Dani told him to do, live for the moment. In the back of his jeans, his phone buzzes and he immediately goes to check the message.

_Beer at mine?_

Marc feels the huge grin spread over his own face while he types a quick yes, already changing his path slightly, turning towards Vale’s motorhome. On the doorstep, his shaky hand against the door, he’s about to die, his nerves dangerously close to failing him and his legs about to give in, when it suddenly opens. 

”Hey, glad you came.” _Well, I’m glad you asked._

Hesitantly, shy in a way he’s never felt around the Italian before, Marc makes his way inside, noticing the two bottles waiting on the coffee table and feeling his cheeks go red at the memory of the last time they’ve done that. This time, he doesn’t move to the couch right away, instead he’s left paralyzed next to the door, eyes now on Vale. _God, you look gorgeous. I can’t believe you think of yourself as old._ Marc’s eyes rest on Vale’s, searching, finding a spark of something and then move lower, the black hoodie hiding a torso that he knows is perfectly defined, all lean muscles, not an ounce of fat and he stops when he reaches the Italian’s crotch, thought of what’s underneath the jeans scary, still, even after Dani’s pep talk. Aware that it’s too tense, too silent around them, he looks back up and inhales sharply.

”Maybe we should talk.”

*

Valentino’s eyes scrutinize the face of the young man in front of him, feeling under the spell of those dark eyes, loving the way he’s blushing, adoring the shy, nervous chewing on his bottom lip. _You’re hot. And a guy. But also hot. And you have more balls than I do._

”Yeah, I guess so.” He walks over to sit on the couch, grabbing a bottle, relieved to find that Marc is doing the same. And although they wanted to talk, they end up sitting in silence for a while.

”I’m sorry if I made things awkward.” It’s a mere whisper and the sad tone in Marc’s voice almost breaks his heart, makes him instinctively wrap an arm around the younger man’s shoulders.

”Don’t. It’s my fault. I was sober, I shouldn’t have let it happen.”

”I wanted it though.” He feels Marc relax into his hold and is almost paralyzed, almost scared of breathing now, afraid to make the other jump.

”Me too.” And it took Vale more than a bit of courage to bring the words out, his voice sounding strangely hoarse when he finally gets it done.

”You? You wanted to kiss me?”

”Mhm.” Vale rests his head on top of Marc’s, slowly, carefully, still afraid to ruin things with a hectic move. “I… I don’t really know how to say it without sounding stupid or crazy, but that first time you wanted to kiss me?” He feels Marc nod against his shoulder, finding just the encouragement he needs to finish this. “I liked that.”

”Yeah, I liked that, too.” Marc mumbles before there’s a somewhat tense break. “I’m not into guys though.”

”Me neither.” Vale whispers now, aware of the contrast between his words and the situation they’re in. Because they are two guys, cuddled up on a couch, beer bottles long back on the table, the room filled with a tension that wasn’t only nerves but also a lot more. And still… _We’re both straight._

”Would you…” And Marc stops, voice weak, Vale knowing exactly what the young man was about to say.

Instead of answer he couldn’t find because of a lack of words, he pulled him up, cupping his face, making their eyes meet. There’s a flash of desire in Marc’s eyes, Vale can read him well enough to see it and he doesn’t fight his own feelings anymore, leaning forward without thinking anymore and moving his head slowly, slower, slowest, until his lips are against Marc’s. _Butterflies. That’s how they feel._ It stays chaste, no tongues, because that doesn’t feel right to him now, but it still leaves a burning desire that Vale has no idea how to deal with behind, accompanied by several more dozens of butterflies that make him giddy and nauseous at the same time. They rest on the couch, foreheads against each other, eyes closed, their breath against each other’s skin, arms around each other’s shoulders.

”It’s late.” Marc whispers it against his cheek and Vale nods, sting of sadness and disappointment running down his body.

”Maybe,” the Italian coughs, unsure how to say it, if or not to say it, “maybe crash here?”

”Really?”

”Mhm. Maybe without the throwing up this time?” Vale grins into Marc’s hair, feeling the younger man poke his ribs.

And he stays, again, only that this time, nobody will get sick. And Marc will probably remember everything tomorrow. They undress simultaneously and Vale briefly wonders if he should take off his T-shirt, ultimately leaving it on, relieved when he turns around and sees Marc is still wearing his and they smile at each other, nervously, each on one side of the bed, before they slip under the sheets. They both end up on their backs, distinct gap between them, their breathing filling the room and the tension feeling unbearably. 

”We’re naughty, you know?” Vale says with a smile, staring at the ceiling, hoping to ease the atmosphere a bit.

”Why?”

”We didn’t even brush our teeth.”

He hears Marc chuckle next to him and it’s a beautiful sound that’s accompanied by rocks and mountains dropping from the older rider’s chest. With a sigh, he reaches for the switch and turns off the light.

”Goodnight babychamp.” He whispers it into the darkness and never gets an answer. Not a verbal one anyway. Under the sheets however, a hand reaches for his, fingers lacing almost automatically and then the mattress shifts as Marc rolls to his side, snuggling against him. The younger rider’s face is in the crook of his neck and a possessive arm is wrapped around his chest and it feels heavenly, blissful, entirely peaceful.

Sleep comes too fast tonight, because Valentino wouldn’t have minded at all to revel longer in their intimacy, breathing in Marc’s scent, overwhelmed by the touch of Marc’s body everywhere against him, hot breath burning his neck. But he feels so comfortable, so relaxed, so at peace that he cannot fight it, helplessly drowning in the comfort and drifting away quickly.

_I think it’s strange you never knew_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mazzy Star. All the fluff ;)
> 
> The same procedure dialogue is a reference to Dinner for One.


	12. I just want you closer...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Safely landed once again (noooo, I didn't go and get more data first, I'd never... ;) )  
> Thank you for the flood of hits and kudos, it's massively appreciated ♥  
> Note that the rating changed, just in case, nothing too graphic yet though ;)

_...is that alright?_

Once again, Marc is the first to wake up, everything still in complete darkness outside, his inner clock still spinning from all the time zone hopping. But there is no headache and a solid stomach this time. And he knows immediately where he is and whose naked, muscular chest his head is resting on, faint scent of his aftershave lingering in Marc’s nose. _If I could wake up like this every day, I would be the happiest man alive._ He hums approvingly, snuggling closer against Vale and smiling to himself. The race later that day he is only distantly aware of and couldn’t care less, feeling himself drowning in the moment, feeling safe and sheltered with Vale in a way he hasn’t felt around anyone before. _I trust you. Somehow, I always trust you._ With another content hum, he drifts away, his mind at peace with the world and, momentarily, comfortable about the idea of lying here with another man.

The first bit of morning sun is peaking in when he wakes up the next time – and his pillow of choice is gone. Now, there’s some noise from the kitchenette and the smell of coffee lingering in the air and he’s just about blinking his eyes open when the mattress dips next to him and he opens his eyes to the sight of a slightly nervously smiling Valentino Rossi sitting down on the bed next to him, two small cups with espresso placed on the side table. He tries to read the expression on Vale’s face, searching for regret, but aside from a hint of blushing it looks as if Vale is okay and after a bit of staring, he wraps his arms around the Italian’s neck, determinedly pulling him down into a languid kiss. One that involves tongues, that turns messier and greedier by the second until teeth hit and lips are bitten, a bit of a coppery taste lingering in their mouths. And when he thinks about the difference to kissing girls, the stubble is the only thing he can find. Everything else feels as good as with a female partner, possibly even better.

With his hands clawing to the older rider’s hair and a soft moan escaping from his lips straight into their kiss, Marc is increasingly aware of his cock hardening, straining against his boxers and he feels terribly torn between freaking out and pulling Vale closer. When he hears a groan from the back of the Italian’s throat, curiosity wins the better of him and his hands slide lower, the firm muscles on Vale’s back still new and then he pulls the other down, making him come to collapse on top of him, eyes widening, but not breaking the kiss and Marc tries rubbing comforting circles on the small of the other’s back, waiting for him to relax and relieved when Vale’s eyes close again. Against his own crotch, he can feel the Italian’s erection, the kiss obviously having the same effect on the other man that it has on him, leaving Marc feeling strangely proud. Tentatively at first, since he is new to this and still figuring out how it might work, he bucks his hips up a little, moaning when the friction sends jolts of lust through his body, cock throbbing in his boxers and fingers involuntarily digging sharply into Vale’s hips. _Amazing. So that’s how it’s done._ Craving more, he repeats the move, feeling the Italian squirm in his hold, both of them moaning into the kiss this time, their bodies beginning to feel sweaty. It feels so good, so perfect, so hot, that Marc’s mind is approaching complete oblivion quickly, his hips bucking more and more frantically – until from one moment to the next he feels Vale go rigid over him. And when his eyes fly open, they meet the Italian’s, finding them nervous and scared. 

Their lips lose contact when Vale pulls his head back now, looking down at him with a mix of horror and disappointment on his face, all the lust Marc had seen in his eyes only minutes before washed away now. They both pant for air wordlessly for a bit, Vale’s eyes now evading his and Marc’s own hardness slowly fades over the shock of seeing Vale react like this. _Because we’re not gay. I see. But what does that mean then? For us? About us? Will we always just be platonic friends?_

”Are you okay?” He asks softly after a bit, Valentino nodding and moving away from him, sitting cross legged on the mattress and staring away.

”I-“, Vale’s voice sounds so full of resignation, it’s breaking Marc’s heart. “I can’t do that.”

Nodding to himself, Marc reaches for one the tiny cups, downing the black, by now mostly cool liquid in a single gulp.

”Not now or not ever?” He asks hoarsely, heart beginning to pound dangerously.

”I don’t know. Don’t you think it’s weird?” He sees Vale take a cup now as well, fingers shaky and a bit clumsy.

”Yes. But it’s just new, isn’t it? I mean… it felt good. And it seemed as if it felt good for you, too.”

”I don’t know. It’s just… I’ve never done this before and it’s scary.”

And now that he thinks about it, Marc kind of agrees, it is scary. Because what comes after the horny rutting? Is either of them ready to take this further? And if no – could they still work?

”So… how do we deal about it? I mean, I really like you.” _Like_ like, as Alex would say.

”I don’t know? I really don’t. Maybe it’s a bad idea?” Vale stares down into an empty cup while he says it, fingers nervously toying with the sheets.

Meanwhile, Marc agrees on an objective level, it’s more than a bad idea, it’s utterly stupid. On a subjective level, his heart is shattering into pieces. With an audible gulp, he puts down the cup and gets up, rummaging for his clothes and dressing wordlessly, not looking at the Italian. Vale still gets up and takes him to the door and they end up both standing there, eyes flickering nervously, hands fidgeting with hems, before Marc finally coughs.

”Would you mind? Only… once to remember?” He holds his arms open tentatively, questioningly, finding Vale biting down on his lip and nodding.

Without hesitation, he falls around Vale’s neck, pressing their bodies flush against each other for a final embrace, last chaste kiss exchanged along with a wistful look, Vale’s eyes mirroring his own feelings. _I wish this could work, but it won’t._

He sneaks back into his motorhome with a hanging head, disappointment hitting him hard, even though he knows that it’s true, they can’t work out in any way. They’d never really get physically intimate in the way they’d want it, because he assumes neither of them would really be up to let himself be fucked. And they’d never be able to have a public relationship, which is not quite where he wants his life to go and it’s not where Vale wants to be either, that much he’s sure about. He feels numb and heavy, entering the motorhome only to head straight for the shower, once again trying to rinse off the memories. _Why does kissing you have to feel so damned good, Vale? Just why?_

_Sure I can accept that we're going nowhere,_  
 _But one last time let's go there_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title/quotes from Last Request by Paolo Nutini


	13. Keep Breathing

Compared to Misano, the podium in Australia feels numb and boring. It’s not the great relief of finally knowing he could win anymore, he’d had that back in Italy and without that, there’s too much room for other thoughts in his head right now, thoughts he’d rather not have but seemingly cannot run away from. He’s a bit distant through the obligatory celebrations and interviews, preoccupied with an unbearable craving to find _him_. 

”Are you okay?” Jorge nudges him and hisses into his ear, both of them making their way back to the garage.

_How do you think I feel after I threw away the chance of my life, broke the heart of the man I might have fallen for and then saw him crash his bike and now feel like it’s all my fault?_

”Not so much.” He shrugs, not feeling like sharing any of his thoughts with the Majorcan and only wishing to be by himself.

”Mhm. Okay. Let me know if I can help?” It sounds surprisingly genuine, friendly and warm, something Vale wouldn’t have dreamt of happening three or four years ago and he ends up shoving the younger rider into one of those tiny storage rooms, slamming the door shut behind them.

”So… unless you changed your mind and plan on devouring me – which I don’t recommend, Dani can be quite possessive,” Jorge gives him a tiny smile and drops to sit on a toolbox, “would you mind telling me why you’re keeping me hostage here in the dusty twilight?”

”I think –“ Vale gulps and turns away, not wanting to look at Jorge and leaning back against the wall, “no, actually, I can’t even think anymore, that’s one of the problems. Jorge, I don’t get it, you know?” He runs a hand through his hair, huffing, feeling himself blushing and he would so take out a cigarette if he wasn’t afraid that could cause a fire alarm and have them end up in an awkward situation. “I like Marc.”

”We figured that much already, Vale.” He can hear the smile in Jorge’s voice, but it sounds warm, not sarcastic.

”I know. But it can’t work.”

”Why?”

”Because of the age gap. And because we’re supposed to fight each other on track. We could never go public. And because he’s a man.”

”Erm. Okay, the age gap I kind of understand, but I think you two are still so similar that it will work. The rest I don’t understand. I’d say Dani and I are doing pretty okay at battling each other on track. And also okay at hiding this for the time being. And seriously, we’ve been there before, I thought it’s okay that he’s a man.”

Vale slides to the floor, arms around his legs and head dropping to his knees. _I wish it was as easy as you say it is._

”Jorge, I don’t know how it’s supposed to work. I don’t want to hide all the time.”

”You’ll retire and then you’ll be free to just show it anyway.” Jorge shrugs. “You’re Valentino Rossi, nobody is going to care.”

”But Marc will be riding for much longer. I couldn’t do that to him.”

”Wouldn’t that be his decision?”

”But he’s still a kid!”

”Vale, you have to stop thinking of him as a kid if you want him. Because you’ll never get comfortable with it unless you change your attitude there. Marc Marquez has beaten all of us on track, two years in a row. He’s had bad accidents, horrible injuries and quite a bit of a hassle with me. And he’s smiled through it and outgrown all of us. He’s a lot of things, but not a kid.”

Admitting that Jorge Lorenzo is right is still, even years after the Yamaha-Wars, a difficult thing to do and it takes a pause, some swallowing and staring to the ground, before Vale manages a nod and a somewhat convinced hum. 

”So, what happened between the two of you that we’re sitting here in a rather dark and dirty storage room instead of celebrating your victory?”

And the entire story just pours out of him, no pause, no hesitation. His cheeks turn red over the memories and he barely manages to mention what was going to happen between them before he more or less destroyed everything, but he gets it out, encouraged by Jorge, who, with a very dirty smirk, told him he had surely done worse with Dani. An awkward silence lingers between them when he’s finished and when he finally dares to lift his gaze, he finds Jorge’s face confused, eyebrows raised.

“Two questions, Vale. Why did you stop?”

”I was freaked out. I was scared. i... I felt physically sick, because it was so - weird.”

”Mhm. Okay. Though you'll probably realize one day that it's been mostly nerves. At least I'd hope that for you." Another shrug, a little sigh. "What changed?”

”Hm?” Vale raises an eyebrow and looks up to Jorge.

”What happened between then and now that made you want to talk about it? That apparentlymakes you want to find some sort of solution for the two of you that you didn’t want to search for this morning? Because if you'd really made a final decision, we wouldn't be talking, I think.”

For another moment, palpable tension mounts in the room and Vale stares at his own feet, knowing, remembering the exact second that changed everything. Where he went from _Sorry, but it just doesn’t work out_ to _I know it won’t work but it doesn’t even matter because I just want you_. After a while, wondering with a brief chuckle how him and Jorge went from enemies to friends who openly talk about feelings, Vale lifts his head again, eyes meeting Jorge’s immediately.

”He crashed, Jorge. That’s what’s different.”

Jorge stared at him for a second before he pulled him in for an embrace and Vale quietly sniffed into his friend’s – and wow, he considers Lorenzo a friend, but now is not the time to dwell on it – shoulder. Above his head, he hears Jorge’s voice, soft, a bit incredulous and a tiny bit amused.

”Wow, you’ve really got it bad.”

When his breathing has calmed, Jorge lets go of him and they both stand up, trying to fix their appearance, straightening hair and clothes, Vale’s hand rubbing over his eyes.

”You know… that other stuff… that you’re so unsure about.” Jorge trails off and Vale looks at him, confused for a second, seeing the Majorcan blush and understanding, turning crimson himself. “You know there’s a lot you could do without actually-“

Vale cringes and shudders, placing a hand on Jorge’s forearm. _Not from you. Not now. Aaargh._

”It’s okay, Jorge. I’ll ask if I’m ready.”

”When you’re ready.” Jorge holds the door open, both of them blinking against the bright light and Vale doesn’t miss the dirty grin on the other’s face.

_WHEN I’m ready. Fair enough._

”Fix it, Vale.”

Jorge whispers it straight to his ear and then he’s gone and Vale stays behind, leaning against the wall with his eyes closed, thoughts spinning once again. _It should be his decision, Jorge is right. And yeah, Marc is old enough. I was old enough when I was 21, right?_ Over the thoughts that are flashing through his brain, he doesn’t even fully notice that he’s beginning to walk, in a very familiar direction, absentmindedly and without even checking if anyone sees it knocking against a motorhome that’s most definitely not his, ignoring that he has other places to be at right now. And then the door opens to a surprised Marc Marquez and he slides past the younger man and barely waits for the door to shut before he pulls him closer, his arms tight around the small frame and his mouth pressing a kiss to Marc’s hair.

”Vale, what’s going on, you said-“ Marc pulls his head back and is looking up to him, eyes somewhere between irritation and hopefulness, face between frowning and questioning and Vale looks down and feels the craving and affection just wash over his body in tidal waves, taking everything else with them, no doubts left for the moment.

”I think,” he takes in a deep breath, feeling his heart thunder in his chest, realizing that this must be the feeling close before a heart attack, “I fell in love with you.”

_All we can do is keep breathing_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song by Ingrid Michaelson


	14. I've been meaning to tell you...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the feedback ♥  
> It deserves the E-rating now ;)  
> And sorry for neglecting Jorge, but this was burning under my skin ;)

_I've got this feelin' that won't subside_

The world has stopped turning for the moment, Vale’s words echoing through Marc’s head and the sound of his blood rushing through his veins almost deafening. Apparently, his brain has completely denied service, as he has no idea how to think anymore, leave alone respond. As a result, he keeps standing there, jaw dropped, eyes widened, shell shocked. On his back, he feels the Italian’s hands, touch burning through his shirt. Then, he blinks and slowly, his mind catches up and starts processing. _It’s a dream? It must be a dream? You wouldn’t really say that to me? Maybe it’s a joke – but your eyes look serious. And dammit, I have to answer. How do you answer that? What are you expecting me to say?_ Ending the tornado of ideas flashing up inside his head, he coughs and tries to form some words. 

”Why- no, I mean, what hap- oh fuck, you can’t just show up here in the middle of the night and say that!” He stares at Vale, feeling helpless and unsure of what this means and if it weren’t for the other’s hands still clenched in the back of his shirt, he would possibly fall over and faint.

”But it’s true,” comes the soft whisper and when Marc allows his eyes to properly meet Vale's, he knows that it’s not a lie.

It’s still not an explanation for whatever happened between this morning and now and Marc cannot help but feeling confused and irritated about the change of mind.

”But… why now?” He mutters, feeling the heat in his cheeks rise again.

”Because you crashed.” Vale’s head drops to his shoulder and Marc instinctively wraps his hands around the older rider’s neck, thumb rubbing circles.

”But I’ve had that way worse, nothing even happened.” He’s speaking into Vale’s curls now, the hair tickling his nose and the scent of shampoo surrounding him.

”Mhm. I know. Can’t explain.” The older man’s voice comes out muffled, as he is speaking into Marc’s clothes.

And well, it’s not like Marc could explain any of the emotions that he’s experienced around Vale or his feelings for the Italian rider lately and so what could he say to that? He shrugs and nods against the taller man's head, taking a deep breath.

”But we won’t work… I mean… we don’t even know what we are, right?” _Because really, I'm afraid you were right about this to begin with and I don’t understand why you suddenly want to try - well, whatever you're here for - anyway._

”I don’t care anymore.” Vale lifts his head, their eyes meeting again and Marc almost drowns in the ocean across from him. “Maybe it doesn’t need a name. Maybe it’s not going anywhere. Probably it will burst up in flames. And still, I just don’t care anymore and it’s freaking me out and making me sick and I’m panicking so bad. God, if you had any idea how my heart is beating right now, Marc. I really want to run away or make these thoughts about you go away but neither is happening. I toss and turn and I try reasoning and behaving like a mature, rational adult - and at the end of the day,” he hears Vale inhale sharply, “at the end of the day I still want you. I don’t even know in what way, but I want you.”

It takes another moment of feeling shell shocked, before Marc’s head catches up again, thoughts spinning for an instant and then absolute, complete joy and happiness, the kind he usually only feels when he wins a race, pours down his veins, body trembling from the overload of emotions. With his hands, that are still close around Vale’s neck, and their eyes locked firmly and intensely, he pulls the Italian’s head down, making their lips meet properly. He's amazed over the flicker of surprise and then joy he sees in the older rider’s face, right before their lips part and his eyelids flutter closed. When Valentino’s hands reach under his shirt, Marc freezes for a second, muscles immediately tense, but then, a gentle thumb rubs circles over the skin of the small of his back and he relaxes, melting into the touch.

Their kiss grows hungrier, both of them grazing the other’s lips, teeth hitting occasionally and moans released, sending little bolts of electricity straight to Marc’s groin. Lowering his own hands to Vale’s waist, he presses their bodies closer, just until they’re flush against each other and he growls into the Italian’s mouth over the sensation of friction when their crotches rub against each other. Sure, there’s layers of denim and cotton between them, but nevertheless, neither of them could deny their interest in the situation. For a moment, Marc fears that Vale will jump again, but this time, it doesn’t happen. Instead, two greedy hands start shoving and pulling at his shirt, lips pull away briefly and then Vale skillfully strips him of his shirt, shedding his own right after and then hungrily returns to kiss him. They are chest to chest, skin on skin now – and Marc would have thought it would be strange. In a way, it is, because with a girl, there’d be softness against him, but now, it’s hard muscle against hard muscle. It’s every bit good-strange though, Vale’s skin feeling deliciously soft and hot against his and that friction between their hardening cocks, it’s setting him on fire.

_Okay, as you haven’t jumped yet and I’m literally growing desperate here, let’s take this further._ Determinedly, he moves backwards, pulling Vale with him towards the bed, never even breaking their kiss except for an occasional gasp. And the Italian doesn’t back away, only follows his lead, hands in the same spot on the small of his back that they were before. Marc doesn’t know where the lines are between them, only vaguely knows where his own might be. And he’s not sure how this is going to work anyway, not even technically, nervousness spreading inside of him the closer he gets to the bed, as if it was his first time. Which it kind of is, in all honesty. He only stops when his legs hit the mattress and with his heart thundering wildly, he finally pulls his head away, eyes searching Vale’s for guidance, for a clue to how they’re playing this. The Italian’s face is flushed, glistening with sweat, hair messy, lips swollen and inviting and in Vale’s eyes, he finds nothing but lust and maybe a flicker of nerves – and hopefully that means whatever is about to happen, it’s okay.

Marc’s fingers tremble when he reaches for the taller rider’s belt and he feels himself blush when he clumsily opens the buckle. Vale mirrors his move and Marc’s entire body shudders when he feels fingertips brush over his bulge while the fly of his jeans is pulled down. Biting his lower lip, he gathers the courage to push down Vale’s pants completely and again, the Italian follows his moves, both of them stepping out of the offending pieces of denim simultaneously, eyes evading each other. He considers Vale’s boxers, eyes the obvious bulge and decides that he has at least found his own line for the night. Still, he runs a finger over the cotton, hearing a loud gasp from Vale and the next second, he’s pinned down to his mattress with the taller rider propped up over him. And when their eyes meet, Vale’s eyes look hungry, needy, wanton – and Marc loves being looked at like that, hips bucking up slightly now, searching for friction, which he gets as Vale lowers himself. They both moan at the feeling. For Marc – and he supposes it’s the same for Vale – it’s a new and very surprisingly pleasurable sensation that makes him shiver from head to toe. His hands pull Vale down for another kiss while he squeezes his eyes shut, feeling the need to focus only on that sweet, delicious body contact. Both of them release moans into their sloppy kiss, hips jerking frantically at first and then finding some common rhythm, movements getting faster, desperate over time. It's making Marc's toes curl and his fingers are clawing to the sheets, taking any hold they can find, while he feels Vale's nails digging into his hips painfully. Embarrassingly quickly, Marc feels his body tensing up, everything reduced to that one sensation in his cock, every muscle clenching and then he only sees white and comes, in his underwear and with a loud swear. While he’s left there, panting heavily, vision blurred and mind blank, he distantly hears Vale growl before the other collapses on top of him, breathing as ragged as his own, his fingers running through his hair now, while Marc’s hands are still clenched in the sheets.

Marc needs time to get back to his senses, quite a lot of time actually. Even when his breathing is more or less back to normal, he stays motionless, eyes shut, hands now on Vale’s back, holding on tight – or maybe, clinging to the Italian as for dear life. He doesn’t want the moment to end, because all inhibitions, doubts, insanity aside, he won’t deny that he just had the best orgasm of his life. _And we didn’t even know what we were doing._

_I wanna hold you so hear me out_   
_I wanna show you what love's all about_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title/quotes from Hungry Eyes by Eric Carmen


	15. Little Talks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a few random conversations.  
> Sorry for the day off, the "little" talks turned out slightly longer though ;)  
> ♥

_So hold my hand, I'll walk with you, my dear_

His phone’s alarm wakes both of them at five am sharp – early flight to catch and all. They’re sitting up within a split-second, awkwardly looking at each other, then looking away, faces dark red. 

”I erm-“ Marc coughed and swallowed, his mouth annoyingly dry. “I really have to hurry and pack stuff, I have to be out of here in half an hour.”

Vale stares at him, face unreadable and Marc wishes he knew how the Italian felt, if he regrets the night or feels offended about basically being kicked out now. If he wants to do a repeat of any of this. What they are to each other. But in the older rider’s face, he can’t decipher anything. After a moment, he sees him swallow though.

”Yeah, sure. I think I’ll better hurry, too.” 

With that, Vale is getting up and gathering his clothes. Marc feels his stomach twist at the sight. Because although he knows it’s inevitable that Vale leaves, he still doesn’t want him to go. Not now. Not like this. Not without talking about last night and what it meant, but it seems that Vale isn’t up for a talk now. With a sigh and a slightly hanging head, Marc crawls out of the bed, accompanying the now dressed Yamaha rider to the door.

”So… bye then and I guess we’ll talk in Malaysia?” Marc feels his voice tremble and he’s annoyed at himself for it.

”Mhm. Yes.” When the Honda rider least expects it, Vale suddenly lowers his head, pressing a chaste kiss to his forehead. “We have to talk in Malaysia.”

Vale leaves without another word and Marc stays behind, speechless, the skin on his forehead where Vale’s lips had touched him still burning. _I’ll miss you._

*

_Vale slept at my place!!!!!!_

_Congratulations?_

_Alex! I’m panicking here!!!!!_

_No need, not like you could have gotten him pregnant or anything._

_ALEX_

_:P_

_You’re my brother. You’re supposed to help me._

_What with? You already got him laid, didn’t you? My services as wingman won’t be required._

_Stop joking about this. It’s serious. I kind of slept with Valentino Rossi, that’s not normal! And I have to do something about it!!_

_Pfff. It’s perfectly normal. (And yes I know he’s a man and YOU know I don’t care.) And now you better get your ass to the airport. I know you, you probably haven’t even packed._

*

”Hey, were you out last night?” Of course, of all people, Uccio would be awake already and hovering around in his motorhome.

”Erm. Kind of.” Vale stares to the ground and tries to brush past his friend, eager for a shower.

”Ooh, you’re turning red as a lobster! Do tell!” And when Vale tries to get to the bathroom, Uccio just moves to block the door, standing there with his arms crossed, lazily leaning against the door, smiling devilishly. “Where did you sleep last night, Vale?”

”Marc’s.” He presses it out between gritted teeth, trying to push the door open, but Uccio playfully shoves him back.

”No way I’m letting you get by with that. More details, please!”

”I won’t tell you, stop it already!” Vale huffs.

”Aw, you’re shy. Looks cute on you!” With a wink, Uccio finally lets him pass and Vale just sighs exasperatedly. 

When he’s finally in the shower, he cannot help but thinking of Marc and the thoughts and images are enough to make him hard again. _I can’t believe this is even happening._ And he hated leaving Marc this morning and now he hates that empty feeling, that insecurity what their encounter means for the younger man, whether there’s a chance of a repeat or whether he might have made a giant fool out of himself. When he’s just about to get lost in confusion and a spiral of thoughts, his head returns to the first images that he had on his mind this morning, the ones where Marc looks up to him with those needy, desperate eyes, silently begging for more and he hears the noises again, the way Marc had been panting and moaning and growling his name. _God, he looks so beautiful when he comes undone._ With his back resting against the tiles, Vale shivers, his fingers already wrapping around his cock and he jerks off, roughly and desperately, to thoughts of Marc Marquez and when he’s finally done, exhausted and spent, he feels the shame creep into his body, his skin burning and his face cringing. 

*

”Dani?” Marc shoots him a curious glance while he sits up slightly in his armchair and Dani sees him chew his lower lip, apparently unsure what to say or how to say it.

”Yeah, what’s going on?” Dani stares at him intently, wondering where this is going.

”You and Jorge…” He raises an eyebrow at that and Marc stutters and looks to the floor. “Who… well… when you two… I mean…”

_Oh. I think I know where this is going. And aww._

”When we…?”

”Who… who tops and who bottoms?”

Dani holds back his laughter at the sight of Marc turning bright red and evading his eyes.

”Why does it matter?”

”Because Vale and I, we-“

”You?”

”We kind of had sex and I don’t know if I can have real sex with him.”

”Woah, there’s so much wrong with that sentence. First of all, what is “kind of sex”. And then, why the heck wouldn’t you be able to? I mean… you DO know how it works, right?”

”I do.” _Can you physically turn more red than this? God this is priceless._ “And we… well… we rubbed against each other.”

”And?”

”Did you like it?”

”I think I did. It was kind of hot.” Marc’s voice is a mere whisper now and Dani is torn between the cuteness and the hilarity of all of this, him in a sex talk with his teammate.

”Did he like it?”

”Erm. I don’t know. We didn’t talk.”

”Okay. Well, you need to talk.” Dani looks at Marc and sees the younger rider gulp and nod. After a moment, Dani adds, “Did he come though?”

Marc’s head, previously gone back down to stare at the floor, jerks back up, eyes widened.

”Did he come?” Dani repeats with a smile.

”Y-yes. Why?”

”Marc! Seriously! Because that obviously means he liked it.”

For the first time during their conversation – the by far strangest conversation of Dani’s life – he sees a small smile twitch around the younger rider’s lips, realization about the truth of Dani’s remark seeming to sink in. He lets him sit and process for a while, taking a sip from his water, before he picks the talking back up.

”So, why’d you want to know who fucks whom when I’m with Jorge?” And he almost bursts into laughter when he sees Marc cringe over his choice of words.

”Because… I don’t know. I mean, if I, if we, if Vale… well, if there was a “we”, then “we” would have to go there, right? And I don’t really… I don’t know if I can do that.”

”Okay… now, it seems there is a “you”, because otherwise we wouldn’t be discussing these things. And then… no, you don’t HAVE to go there. There’s plenty of alternatives and not all male couples do “go there”. And I’m sure you can find out how to do that together… I mean, it’s no big difference whether you have anal sex with a girl or a guy so you’re familiar with one side of the story already and-“ Dani sees Marc shake his head and stops cold. “Wait… you never-?”

”No,” comes the faintest whisper and Dani just finds it beyond adorable.

*

”Jorge?” The Majorcan lifts his head from the magazine he was looking at, tone of Vale’s voice strangely conspiring. “Can I ask you something?”

”Sure, why not?”

”It’s kind of intimate.”

He sees the Italian blush and cringes, a slight fear rising up in his veins that he knows exactly where this is leading.

”How do you… I mean, you and Dani, how do you… Do you…” _Spit it out. Dammit, you’re Valentino Rossi and you can’t say THAT?_ “Do you fuck?”

_Okay. Maybe I wish you hadn’t said it._ Jorge feels as far out of his comfort zone as possible.

”Er…yes…but why does that matter now?”

”Marc and I kind of… we tried… I mean, we did… we rubbed against each other and then it just happened.”

Valentino Rossi stuttering and blushing is definitely and adorable sight, but Jorge can’t really appreciate it now, the topic just too awkward.

”And you thought I could tell you what Dani and I do and then what?”

”I don’t know. I just don’t know if I can do it?! I thought maybe… if you’d done it… you could tell me… does it hurt?”

And Jorge wants the ground to open and swallow him but it just doesn’t happen. So, he takes a deep breath instead and begins to explain. Jorge is feeling about as comfortable as a teenager getting “the talk” from their parents while he talks about some of the _basics of gay sex_ to Vale and he feels his own face burn up in flames. Eventually, they move towards gay marriage, gay rights and even things as going public and adoption and Jorge slowly feels a bit more comfortable with the topic and he’s quite surprised of all the things going on in Vale’s head already. Still, he condemns Dani, because of course, this is all Dani’s fault and he hates being in this position. Then, they really have to split, both heading for different appointments and Jorge thinks he can hear Vale sigh just as relieved as he feels himself. Only one thing… one thing he wants to figure out now.

”Vale, one thing though…” The Italian turns around and faces him again, eyes questioning. “How come I’ve seen you hook up with dozens of girls without you ever thinking more than a day ahead and when it comes to Marc, you suddenly need to figure out everything the future might ever hold?”

*

”You won’t believe what I just did!” Dani smiled brightly at the computer screen. Not being teammates came with pros and cons, because event often forced them to go separate ways – but then, some distance could be useful for not getting too attached or bored of each other. And luckily, they had Skype, not even too much of a time zone difference at the moment and he wouldn’t miss their rare calls for the world.

”Ha, the way you say that, I bet I do. And you know what? I did the same for a certain Italian.” While Dani is still smiling widely, Jorge puts on a faked frown.

”No you didn’t!”

”Yeah, I so did. I had a lesson on gay sex with Valentino Rossi.” Jorge grinned at the laptop before his face turned into another faked frown. “And Dani, you owe me for that!”

”Why? Don’t say it was awkward?” Dani bites his lip, trying in vain to hold back his laughter as images of the two men, probably both red as tomatoes, stuttering and both unable to say the simplest words such as sex or cock out loud without giggling hysterically flooding his mind.

”Awkward is not even close,” Jorge huffs and now Dani cannot help but burst out into laughter.

”Okay, I think I want to hear all about it then!”

*

_We should have talked._

_Sorry about that. I'm freaking out._

_Me too. But I miss you._

_Miss you, too._

_Now wait, wait, wait for me_  
 _Please hang around_  
 _I'll see you when I fall asleep_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song by Of Monsters and Men


	16. My Favorite Mistake

Talking to Jorge had been horrible and he thinks it had felt just as bad for the Majorcan. _He can’t complain though, he was the one who initially suggested it after all._ And Vale hasn’t found the time to talk to Uccio yet, which is a shame, because they’re in Malaysia now and after a few texts have been sent back and forth, he’ll spend the night at Marc’s again, with no idea what to do about it. Is it a date or not? Is Marc expecting them to kiss again? Or more? And Vale isn’t even sure where he wants the night to go, leave alone where the lines are at the moment. They haven’t been in touch all week – though actually, it’s only been four days. They felt longer though and he does admit that he’s missed Marc on more than one occasion. And he’s been overjoyed when the invitation for a FIFA-night lit up on his phone. Only that right now, he is about to faint from excitement, his nerves absolutely failing him. He’s checked himself in the mirror many times, changed his hair, tried three different hoodies, picked his favorite jeans – he’s definitely behaving like a teenager going to their first date. And, he cringes at the memory, he organized a bottle of wine for them to share. _I just hope I’m not misinterpreting the purpose of this night._

Stumbling through the paddock, he makes it to Marc’s motorhome. It’s not like anybody would be surprised about him going there, they’ve been hanging out before. He takes a deep breath before he knocks, hands clutching to the bag with the wine.

”Hey, come in.” The younger rider greets him with the familiar broad grin on his face and for a moment, Vale thinks his smile is even a little bit brighter than usual. 

With Marc closing the door behind him, they stand frozen to the spot, eyes nervous, teeth biting lips, neither saying a word. Vale tries to secretly let his eyes wander down Marc’s body, finding the other gorgeous in his grey hoodie and the tight dark jeans. 

”Here,” with the tense silence becoming unbearable, Vale clumsily holds the bag out to Marc, “I brought you something.”

_Shit. Now it looks as if I thought this was a date._

Marc looks at him with a flash of surprise in his face and then holds out the bottle.

”Wine?”

”Yeah, I thought-“ Vale bites his lips, not sure what to say and already feeling himself blush.

”Is this a date?” Marc looks at him with wide eyes, and maybe – but that might be wishful thinking – a somewhat hopeful glint in his eyes.

”I- no-“ He swallows audibly. “I don’t know. I guess it doesn’t need a name?”

Marc smiles back at him nervously, before turning away with a shrug. “Guess you’re right.”

They end up on the couch, glasses with wine in hand, eyes evading each other. The Playstation isn’t even mentioned and Vale can feel his mouth go dry and his heart is beating furiously.

”So, Australia.” Marc says it softly, a bit curiously, but maybe Vale is just reading too much into it.

”Australia.” Vale drowns his wine, wishing he’d brought Vodka instead.

”Did we make a mistake?” That definitely sounded weak. And broken. And it makes his heart shatter into pieces.

Putting his glass down, Vale then wraps an arm around the smaller man’s shoulders, pulling him against his side, his head resting on top of Marc’s. “What makes you think so?”

”I don’t know. I mean… it’s so complicated. I really like you, but I just don’t know where this is going to end up. We can’t, I mean, we couldn’t even have a date if we wanted to, you know? If you were a girl, I could take you out, or we could go see a movie, or do something completely different. But with the two of us… what could we do that we haven’t always done anyway?”

_We could fuck._ But he doesn’t dare say that loud. Instead, he pulls Marc a bit closer, pressing a kiss to the younger rider’s hair.

”So, does that mean that you would want to do more with me?”

_Shit. That came out wrong. Didn’t it?_ Vale warily glances to the younger rider as good as he can in his position, but Marc is still staring into his wine, feeling tense in his hold.

”Mhm. I think I kind of want. But I don’t see how. I just don't know what this is supposed to be or how I'm supposed to handle it. I mean... if you were a girl, I'd say, yeah, let's hook up and then we'll seee... but somehow, with you, it feels like the stakes are higher.” _You have no idea..._

”Me neither, I have no idea what to do about it.” Vale sighs, fingers now drawing patterns on Marc’s upper arm, not failing to notice the defined muscles under the fabric of that hoodie. “This won’t be enough, right?”

”Mhm. I guess not.” Despite the depressing topic, he feels Marc relax against him and then the younger downs the rest of his wine, his glass now joining Vale’s on the table and next thing Vale knows, Marc turns in his holds and moves to straddle his lap.

He has to bite his lip to avoid moaning now and he feels his cheeks turn red because embarrassingly quickly, things are happening in his lap, while he sits there, with an armful of Marc Marquez. Their eyes lock and Vale sees all of his own nervousness and doubts, his inhibitions and fears reflected in Marc’s – along with all the affection and love that wash over him whenever he looks, really looks, at the young man.

”I know this is wrong and it will only hurt us, but – “ Marc cups his face, prompting Vale to hold his breath, “I can’t really stop, you know? I tried. But you’re haunting me.”

With a gulp, Vale nods, eyes still firmly locked with Marc’s, thousands of emotions and thoughts conveyed wordlessly.

”We could,” Vale coughs, voice hoarse now, “try where it leads, right? Just find out?”

With a pounding heart, he expects Marc’s reply, his breath held again. And then, the younger man suddenly smiles, bright as usual and with a slow nod, he leans forward, lips seeking Valentino’s. In his lap, the twitching becomes noticeable and he hears a soft moan, released from Marc’s mouth into their kiss when his hands reach under Marc’s hoodie, resting on the hot skin underneath. _We might have made a mistake. We might be making one now and probably you're damned right and this is leading nowhere. Hell, we still haven't figured out what this is. But I assure you, I couldn't care less where it leads or if it lasts or whether it's right or wrong, all I know is that even if it's the worst idea ever, you will be my favorite mistake._

_Well maybe nothin' lasts forever_  
 _Even when you stay together_  
 _I don't need forever after_  
 _It's your laughter that won't let me go_  
 _So I'm holding on this way_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song by Sheryl Crow


	17. Brighter Than The Sun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will probably pause for a few days now, I want to finish something else over the weekend ;)  
> Thank you loads for the feedback, it's basically what keeps me going ♥  
> I hope some sexy will get you over the quick break ;) ♥

_Oh, this is how it starts, lightning strikes the heart_

It’s probably a bad idea. As in a really, really bad idea. But Marc is still there, on Vale’s legs, moaning into a kiss that feels like the best of his life, mind overrun with sensations and emotions at the same time. The feeling of stubble against his cheeks almost feels familiar now and Vale’s scent, the aftershave-detergent-shampoo mix, is intoxicating. There are hands on his back, under his hoodie, fingertips tracing his spine and it feels great, only difference to a girl maybe the slightly callused feel of the skin. His mind travels to his crotch. The chest against his is hard and flat and that’s still unusual and then, his hands now tangled in Vale’s curls, Marc’s mind continues its scanning process to his crotch. _This is obviously quite different._ Against his own hardening cock, he feels the bulge in Vale’s jeans and it makes him blush, which Vale luckily won’t see because he has his eyes closed. _You make beautiful noises when you’re unravelling._ Marc listens to the soft hums and moans that spill into their messy kiss. It’s becoming more and more difficult to deal with the pain in his groin though, his jeans definitely too tight now. After a while, he pulls his head back, panting for air and when he opens his eyes, he finds Vale’s eyes on his, pupils dilated, lust written all over them. _And your face… wow… you’re beautiful like this._ Staring at Vale’s parted lips, the flushed cheeks, the glowing skin, Marc throws the last bit of caution out of the window, mind switching into lust-mode and his hands move to the zipper of Vale’s hoodie, tugging impatiently.

”Off,” he says, surprised at the hoarseness of his voice, only now realizing that his mouth has gone dry and he stares again, eyes hypnotized, while Vale wriggles out of the hoodie, then giving him a challenging look and a cheekily raised eyebrow while pointing at the white shirt underneath.

Marc licks his bottom lip, nods and keeps staring, watching intently when Vale sheds the shirt. With a mix of surprise, fascination and awe, he moves his fingers to Vale’s chest, tracing scars and drawing patterns, feeling the twitching of the muscles underneath, captivated by the still new but at the same time so familiar feeling. When he lifts his gaze, Vale is watching him with a fond smile and then moves to pull on Marc’s clothes. With a brief nod, he lifts his arms, Vale getting the clue and shoving shirt and hoodie off with a swift movement, then mirroring Marc’s explorations, both of them discovering the other’s torso now, fingertips moving slowly, eyes watching intensely, strong muscles twitching under teasing touches. Occasionally, one of them will release a sharp exhale and Marc feels strangely proud every time he manages to draw one of these needy sounds from the older rider.

”Bed?” He breathes out when they break for air the next time.

In face, he doesn’t even get an answer when Vale just gets up, holding him close, lifting him easily and carrying him over, carefully putting him down on the mattress and then crawling over him with a smile that’s more confident than he has seen him in a while.

”I can’t believe I never realized how hot you are.” 

_Wow. I can’t believe you said that. Loud. Wow._

”Same for me.” Marc gulps, audibly. “This has taken both of us forever, I guess.”

Vale stares at him, surprised for an instant, then beaming and finally, he drops to his side, head against Marc’s shoulder, sucking a little bruise, while his hands wanders over Marc’s chest. And it feels good, because Valentino knows exactly where to touch, how to touch and Marc bites his bottom lip with despair, trying to hold back the wanton noises that want to fall from his lips, eyes squeezed shut and brain shut down, while he expects, hopes, dreads what apparently comes back. He squirms when the soft touch of Vale’s fingers over his stomach tickle him and then his eyes fly open and he draws in a sharp breath, when he feels a thumb hooking under the waistband of his jeans.

”Okay?” It’s just one word, but it means such a giant step and Marc still feels hypnotized when he slowly nods, eyes locked with Vale’s and his own hand automatically reaches for Vale’s belt.

”Yours too,” he just about manages to whisper, before the accidental brushing of Vale’s hand over his bulge makes him growl.

They both clumsily wriggle out of their jeans, fidgeting until socks are gone as well and then Marc feels a tentative pull on his boxers. He only nods and reaches for Vale’s underwear and then there’s a bit more clumsy wriggling and then it has actually happened. He is on a bed, naked, with an equally naked Valentino Rossi, both of them on their side now, eyes locked, neither daring to look down and their free hands laced between their stomachs. Marc is hard, painfully so, and he is desperate, but at the same time, he knows his face is bright red and he feels terrified, because they are about to cross a pretty big line.

Later, he couldn’t say who started, but eventually, their eyes still locked, bottom lips bitten harshly, their hands, still tangled, move down, reaching their cocks and Marc holds his breath when he lets go of Vale’s and touches _it_ , surprised and fascinated again, because it feels somehow familiar and still incredibly good. And when his thumb runs over Vale’s head and the Italian groans, burying his head in the pillow, it’s all the encouragement he could ask for to start stroking. And after a bit, Vale reciprocates and it feels mind-blowing, because Vale _knows_. Instinctively, the Italian knows exactly what he has to do, touching Marc just the right way. Marc is far out of it already, his eyes fluttering shut, his body shuddering, his hand still tugging on Vale, swears coming from his mouth, sound of Vale’s ragged breathing ringing in his ears. With a hum, Marc brings his hand up to his mouth to suck on his fingers, spitting against the palm, smearing a mix of saliva and precome over Vale’s cock and feeling things get heated. Vale follows his lead, doing the same, the Italian’s hand around his cock now feeling even better. He still has his eyes closed, but he still manages to find Vale’s mouth with his, their lips locking for a messy kiss, growling louder and louder until Marc feels that he won’t be able to hold back anything any longer, every muscle in his body clenching for a split-second before the world explodes into stars and fireworks. He draws his mouth away from the Italian, releasing a low moan while the hot liquid splatters between them and under his still stroking fingers, Vale bucks up one last time, coming over their stomachs now, too, a desperate groan falling from his lips.

It doesn’t sink in quite yet, the afterglow slow to leave his body. He feels like his limbs are made of lead, but eventually, the sticky mess between them makes both of them frown and they end up side by side in the bath, cleaning themselves with tissues, eyes meeting nervously in the mirror. There’s not even a question about leaving tonight and they end up curled against each other under the sheets, Marc’s head nuzzled against the taller man’s chest that is peacefully heaving under even breaths. _This probably comes with a bad hangover, but right now it feels perfect._

And to his own surprise, it still feels perfect when the first rays of sun peak through the window, waking him up, body hot from sharing body heat with Vale under the sheets, both of them sleeping with their chest flush against each other’s and arms around each other. _You think you’ve fallen in love with me. And I think I’ve fallen in love with you. Should be easy then, right?_

_I swear you hit me like a vision_  
 _I, I, I wasn't expecting_  
 _But who am I to tell fate where it's supposed to go?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song by Colbie Caillat
> 
> _Thank you for everything, I hope you know who you are, because if it wasn't for you, I think I would have quit a while back already ♥_


	18. Good Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you ♥
> 
> One done, three to go ;) I missed these two!!

_You are magic_   
_Truly healing_   
_Thank you_   
_For taking me home_

He wakes up and he’s not even confused. He knows exactly where he is. And who the person next to him is. And what they have done. It’s not even scary to let the memories run through his head, mental images of Marc unravelling almost making him moan softly. Bathing in memories certainly makes him half-hard, too, but that could be an issue. Because even so he is feeling strangely calm about everything right now, that doesn’t mean it’s the same for Marc at all. For all he knows, the younger rider could be freaking out completely right now. _Though I take it as a good sign you’re still here in bed and not on your couch or anything. Because I can hear you breathe. And I feel your chest under my arm. And that is more than I would have dared to hope for._ In the back of his head, he realizes that he’s lying here, in Marc’s bed, naked, after having had… well… something damned close to sex with Marc. A man. Who is fourteen years younger than him. _I don’t think I ever dragged a girl home who was that much younger than me._ But instead of freaking out, screaming, running or throwing up, he feels calm and serene and, even if it’s completely inappropriate, unexpected and inexplicable, he feels at home. As if he had just returned from a long trip and finally made it to his own bed. 

Next to him, he hears a bit of rustling and he realizes that Marc’s breathing isn’t as even as it was before. _You’re awake._ Nervousness floods him immediately, all muscles getting tense and heart hammering in his chest. _Will you run away? Should I have run away? Are you okay?_ Instead of jumping or yelling, there’s nothing for a moment. No words, no sounds. Until, after a felt eternity and possibly Vale’s first heart attack ever, Marc’s fingers brush over his, ever so slightly and tentatively. For a moment, he considers staying still, pretending to be asleep, only to make sure their blissful time isn’t quite over yet, but then he decides that buying time in that way won’t lead to anything and tries lacing their fingers, holding his breath while he waits for a reaction.

”You’re awake.” It’s a soft whisper, Marc’s voice slightly hoarse.

_You’re holding on to my hand. You’re actually squeezing back._ Vale’s mind slowly processes that he’s apparently allowed to be here. Even now, in the light of day, effects of the wine long gone, reality about to burst over them. _We’re really doing this, right? We’re really trying to see where this takes us?_ Vale doesn’t know what to think of it. It hadn’t really been his intention when he’d come here last night, neither sleeping with Marc not making this whatever was going on between them an actual thing, but then he’d been sitting there, looking at Marc and even when all the doubts and impossibilities were still there, he knew, he just KNEW, that he had to try something. Anything. Try to work out a solution, as unlikely as it may be. Because one thing is for sure, if they don’t try, they will not be happy. So they might as well try and fail and then be unhappy. As long as it gets him a few memories like those of last night, it will have been worth it in the end. And maybe, just maybe, Dani and Jorge are the best example that it could work, despite the pressure, the secrecy, the hiding.

”Yes, I am,” Vale mumbles after a while, facepalming internally at the somewhat obsolete answer.

”I thought you always sleep so long.” He hears the nervous chuckle and realizes that Marc is probably still trying to figure out how to deal with the situation as well.

”I usually do. Must be you.” 

With a sudden jolt of courage, Vale rolls to his side, wrapping his arm properly around Marc’s waist and nuzzling his head against Marc’s neck, pressing a kiss to the delicate skin and reveling in the content little moan that gets in reply.

”Yes, must be me.” _So the Marquez-cockiness is up early as well._

Marc rolls to his side now, too, and their eyes meet for the first time this morning. Vale is relieved to see Marc’s look affectionate; slightly nervous, yes, but not panicked. And they both smile, broadly and maybe a bit incredulously. _Which is only normal, right? Because who in their right mind would not be slightly overwhelmed by THIS?_

”So,” Marc whispers, fingers drawing patterns on Vale’s biceps that make the older rider shiver, “it’s still really early and we have a lot of time.”

_That dirty tone… where does he get the confidence from?_ Vale cannot hold back a soft moan when Marc’s hand moves between them, brushing over the muscles of his lower stomach and then aiming for his twitching cock.

”So what?” He presses out breathless, trying to smirk convincingly.

”What about a replay of last night? Because I mean, with all the wine… maybe we don’t remember everything correctly?”

Vale almost chokes at the bluntness, the hotness of that question and he’s relieved that there’s at least a tiny bit of nervousness showing in Marc’s voice.

”Sounds like a valid reason,” he growls, his hand following Marc’s lead, finding that the younger rider is fully hard already – _perks of being 21, I remember the times_ \- and he hears Marc moan deliciously when he starts smearing the first beads of precome over his head.

From here, it’s a short was to an actual repetition of the night before, lips crashing violently bodies moving flush against each other under the sheets – the room cool from the air condition - and their fingers moving slowly and carefully at first, firmly and rapidly towards the end. They’re both growling into the kiss soon and Vale is painfully hard now, too, cock leaking and twitching and nerves oversensitive to all of Marc’s touches. They both last longer this time, the urgency from the previous night gone for the time being, movements more languid, tongues exploring with more gentleness and fingers not just rushing the other, trying to rip an orgasm from him, but trying to find out more about what works, what doesn’t and how. But even the most determined lover at one point needs release and when Marc’s other hand finds an especially sensitive spot in Vale’s neck, caressing him gently, he cannot hold back any longer, hot liquid running over their hands and a growl escaping into their kiss. His body is shuddering and Marc doesn’t let go, stroking him through the last waves of pleasure and when Vale is just about to completely lose it, not knowing how long he’ll be able to keep moving his hand around Marc’s cock, the younger man comes over his stomach and he’s blown away, because he hears his own name echo through the room, said in a way Marc – and actually, no one else either – had ever said, or rather screamed, it before.

They curl up against each other, stickiness not being an issue for either apparently and Vale wraps Marc in his arms, his nose in Marc’s hair, inhaling Marc’s smell. _I know we will have to get up and that will also burst the happy bubble, but for now, this is perfect._ They both hang after their own thoughts for a bit, catching their breaths, gaining control over their minds and bodies again and Vale briefly dares to imagine continuing this, trying to get what Dani and Jorge have, before he dismisses the idea as ridiculous, for all the reasons they’d discussed already. Or rather, he’d discussed with Jorge, because clearly, he’s never properly discussed this with Marc. _I guess we should._

Once they’re finally back to reality, afterglow worn off and the mess between them becoming a true issue, Vale slowly sits up, Marc’s eyes flying open immediately, nervous, almost disappointed look meeting him.

”I… If you want I-“ Vale coughs, searching for the best way to phrase it. “I don’t want to leave quite yet? Maybe we could have coffee together? I just want to go out for a cigarette?”

He is well aware that his voice has just betrayed him and given away the nervousness, but judging by Marc’s face, the younger isn’t doing much better.

”O-okay. Yeah, sure. I’ll make us coffee then?” Marc’s lips turn into an insecure smile and Vale finds it adorable, leaning forward to steal a quick kiss.

”Good, I’d love that,” he says, getting out of the bed already and looking for his boxers. Failing to find them, he just slides into his jeans and, realizing it’s probably hot outside now, reaches for a T-Shirt from Marc, wordlessly asking permission and receiving a pleased nod. “I’d love to check whether you’re any good at making coffee,” he mumbles while he fidgets with the somewhat tight shirt, “Gotta know what I’m getting myself into, don’t I?” 

It’s cheeky but also a bit daring and Vale feels relief wash over him when Marc just smiles and pokes his tongue out.

”Same, same. Not sure I approve of the smoking.” The younger smiles devilishly and gets up as well, allowing Vale a brief glimpse of that perfect body before he puts on his T-Shirt and boxers. 

Without thinking too much about it, Vale steps outside, humid Malaysian heat hitting him like a wall and he finds a somewhat decent hiding place next to Marc’s motorhome where he leans against some tires, lighting his cigarette and stretching his arms. _There’s a reason it’s called breakfast for champions… that much is for sure._ He yawns openly and then his lips curl into a huge smile when Marc appears around the corner, only in boxers and a T-Shirt and holding two mugs of steaming coffee. Vale takes the one offered to him, still smiling, their eyes locked in an intense stare. _We don’t need words, do we? So why would we need names for any of this? It’s perfect as it is._

*

They’re running really late this morning. Really, really late. And Dani knows exactly why, because sharing showers never is a good idea. It’s never ‘just a shower’ and it always ends up taking forever, leaving both of them stickier and messier than before and now they should really hurry because they’re supposed to be with their teams in ten minutes and Jorge will have to at least pretend he slept at his place, so he doesn’t understand at all why the Majorcan is sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at his phone and frozen to the spot. Until he sits down next to him, arm around his shoulders, just about to ask what’s wrong and Jorge holds the display in front of his face. Dani needs a moment to get a grasp, to process what he’s seeing. It’s a tweet, from someone he doesn’t know, barely half an hour old but apparently spread all over the place, and it’s a picture. A picture of a tall, lean man in a ragged jeans leaning against tires with a cigarette in a corner of his mouth, a mug in his hand and his other arm around the shoulders of a shorter man in shirt and boxers. Both ruffled, both more than obviously just hopped out of bed. Both oblivious of their audience and smiling at each other in the most affectionate way possible.

”It's fucked up,” He feels jorge’s hand dig into his thigh harshly, the Majorcan's voice trembling.

_Yeah. That’s all there is to say right now._

_Bless me_   
_Take me_   
_Don't forsake me_   
_I have no place to hide_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are still the good things  
> All the good things
> 
> ...Song by Die Happy


	19. Day Is Done

_When the game's been fought_  
 _You speed the ball across the court_  
 _Lost much sooner than you would have thought_  
 _Now the game's been fought._

They finish their coffee and go back inside, Vale now in somewhat of a hurry to leave, hopefully more or less unseen around the paddock that will soon start to wake up. And he’ll look somewhat strange in that hoodie now, the air being way to hot for it already, but then a hoodie will still be better than Repsol Honda team wear that’s a size too small.

”So, we’re trying, right?”

They’re standing inside, right at the door, Vale looking at him expectantly and this time, Marc doesn’t hesitate and just nods, happy to see the broad grin spread over Vale’s face in response.

”We’ll try. Our best.” He leans up and kisses the Italian, the gesture already feeling shockingly familiar, their lips parting automatically now, no longer waiting for permissions, lines officially removed and his hands automatically find the right spots in Vale’s neck, making the older rider moan softly.

”Sorry bambino, but I really need to leave now. Otherwise everybody’s going to see me and as much as I’d like us to have _something_ , I don’t think I want to try this in the eye of the public.”

”No, me neither,” Marc chuckles, “though I bet it would lead to some funny faces.”

He gets a last peck on his forehead and then Vale leaves, door closed hastily again. The butterflies are back, making him feel dizzy and unsteady and under the shower, he has to lean with his back against the tiles to stop himself from falling over. It’s still unbelievable, a lot like a strange dream and he’s not sure what or how he feels about everything, because clearly, it’s happened too fast to sink in yet. But what he does know is that trying to work this out is a good idea, as he is very sure that he’d spend the rest of his life wondering about this if they don’t try. With still somewhat jelly-like legs and a mix of thoughts and images spinning in his head, he makes his way to his garage, phone on silent and not looked at forever, oblivious to some of the looks he gets on the way and only realizing that something is off when he enters the pit and everything is completely quiet within an instant, roughly twenty faces turning towards him with looks between shock and irritation, Emilio walking towards him, frowning. _What’s this about then?_

*

Vale is hiding in his motorhome, Uccio by his side, both of them staring at the TV wordlessly.

_Marc, we’ve seen some pretty intimate photos of you and Valentino Rossi, what’s going on between you guys?_

Jajajaja, nothing. Really. We’re just friends. He stayed over because we got a bit drunk last night.

_Seriously? Because it really looked like you were flirting!_

Ah, people say that all the time. I think it’s wishful thinking, they want to read more into it than what’s actually there. We’re a both bit touchy, at times, you know? On the podiums and so on. But that’s just us, our mentality. And we’re quite alike so we always get along well.

_So no sharing the bed?_

Jajaja, nooooo. Don’t say these things, our girlfriends would be so jealous!

He feels his heart shatter over the words and swallows desperately, focus returning to the TV.

_Girlfriends? Anything you want to tell us about your lovelife?_

Not yet.

Vale cringes at the dirty smirk.

_And what will your teams say about you getting drunk in the middle of a race weekend?_

I don’t know yet… but I’ll let you know once I’ve been in the garage. Though you can probably hear them yell from where you’re standing now.

With that, the Marc Marquez on screen winks a final time, turns around and walks towards the Repsol garage, interview officially over. Vale stays frozen to his spot on the couch. The words are still echoing in his head. _Just friends. Our girlfriends._ He gulps, feeling tears dwell up and Uccio’s arm wraps around his shoulder, pulling him in and in Uccio’s hold, he crumbles, tears streaming down his cheeks, little sniffs coming from his nose, before he feels overwhelmingly ridiculous and pathetic, sitting there crying about a mere kid. He jumps up, opening a window and leaning out, cigarette lit within a split-second, sighing with relief.

”Vale?” The softness in Uccio’s voice annoys him. Well, everything annoys him, but especially that softness. Because it’s pity. And he doesn’t need pity.

”What?” He snaps, knowing Uccio doesn’t deserve that and still unable to hold back.

”You’re not angry right?”

”Why would I?” He huffs, eyes following the little clouds of smoke and he feels his face slowly getting covered with sweat from the sticky heat coming in through the open window.

”Because he denied it.”

”Denied what? It’s not like there’s actually anything between us to deny.” Not yet, he adds in his head, then realizing that now it’s not ever and swallowing down a lump in his throat. 

”You know,” after a moment of silence Uccio picks the conversation up again, voice still annoyingly soft, “you would have done the same at 21, right?”

With a sigh, he drops the cigarette, closes the window and turns back around, arms folded in front of his chest, brows furrowed.

”Probably,” he admits, albeit reluctantly.

”See? And I’m sure they made him feel as if he had to choose between you and riding. I can’t imagine Honda or Repsol really liking the idea of having the first gay rider on their team.”

 _Not gay. Bisexual. If they insist on labelling this. Which they probably do._ Vale’s eyes lock with Uccio’s and he clearly sees the resignation on Uccio’s face, knows that his own face looks the same and deep down, he understands Marc. Very well. After all, it’s a decision a 21 year old shouldn’t have to make in the first place and Vale knows it’s his fault that Marc has to do it. The thing that bothers him though – and actually, not just bothers but plain out scares him – is that if he was asked to choose now, at 35, he would actually have to think about it. He would honestly consider picking Marc. And the realization is enough to make him freak out and break down at the same time. The impatient buzzing of his phone makes him wake up from his musing and he pulls It out, checking the latest message, assuming it’s another interview request. Actually, it’s not, far away from it even and his lips curl into a smile when he reads the name of the sender. _Marc._ Then he reads the message, smile freezing on his face and heart shattering again.

_Hey, I’m so sorry. But I guess it’s better we avoid each other for a bit._

~~~~~  
 _“And I’d choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you.”_  
 _**~ Kiersten White, The Chaos of Stars** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song by Nick Drake


	20. Raise Hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ♥
> 
> So... I changed plans about this a bit rapidly lately...
> 
> Let me know what you think?

“So you lied?” Alex looks at him, eyebrow raised.

”So I lied.” Marc leans back against the wall, pressing the cool water bottle against his forehead that is covered in sweat from the Malaysian heat. “Do you think the press will buy it?”

”Hm. I don’t know. I think sooner or later, maybe? I mean, he’s grabbed your crotch on TV before and it was dismissed as casual. So yeah, the drunk story could work.” Alex sighs, rummaging in the pockets of his shorts and then looks up, triumphantly holding up a box of cigarettes, Marc’s jaw dropping. “Want one?”

He stares at his younger brother, still gaping and shakes his head. Alex just shrugs, lights one and puts the box between them, as if encouraging him to go for it later.

”But Marc?” He’s blowing little patterns into the sticky air and not even looking at him.

”What?” Marc speaks distantly, still disturbed by the image of his younger, supposedly innocent brother smoking. _And hell, you look like you’ve done that a lot already._

”You don’t have a girlfriend. Don’t you think they’ll expect one in Valencia now?”

”You really think that will be a problem?” _I am Marc Marquez, I am sure someone will volunteer._

”I don’t know. Probably not.” 

They sit in silence for a while and Marc nips on his water, staring into the distance, not really taking in any of the scenery, only distantly hearing the noises of the rest of the paddock. He feels Alex’s eyes on him, the worry in his brother’s looks. They’re close enough for these things to be conveyed wordlessly and sometimes, that’s infuriating.

”Marc?” Alex asks softly after a while and Marc hums, wincing internally because he has a feeling that he knows where this will go next. “What about Vale?”

*

”So, think they saved it?”

Jorge pulls him down on his lap, pressing a kiss into his hair and feels Dani nod.

”Hm. I think Marc just about managed.”

Jorge doesn’t like the distant tone in his boyfriend’s voice, doesn’t approve of the brooding and runs his fingers through Dani’s soft, dark strands.

”Why are you so absent? What’s wrong?” He mumbles it into the smaller rider’s hair, wrapping his arms closely around the narrow frame, ignoring the all-surrounding heat.

”What would you have done?”

”Hm?” Jorge blinks confused.

”If it had happened to us, what would you have done?”

_Oh. We’re going there, are we?_ Jorge feels his heart pounding in his chest.

”I don’t know, I honestly don’t.” He nuzzles into Dani’s neck, overrun with the familiar scent that holds so many memories. “But I think,” he inhales deeply, “I think I would have done what Marc did. I wouldn’t want to risk either of our careers.”

”You would have lied?” There’s something inscrutable about Dani’s tone now, something Jorge cannot recognize immediately.

”I think so.” Jorge shrugs, his fingers still playing with Dani’s hair.

”So we keep hiding? Will we come out when I retire? Or when you do so? Or never?” Jorge hears the increase of urgency in Dani’s voice and it takes him by surprise, _this_ has never been that high on the small rider’s agenda either.

”I don’t know?" He answers reluctantly, not prepared for this discussion at all. "Why don’t we just wait and see?”

”Wait and see, huh?” Dani starts moving, disentangling himself from Jorge and the Majorcan is utterly confused. _Now, where did this come from?_ “Well, while you wait and see, I think I’ll better sleep in _my_ bed.”

Jorge is too overwhelmed to react and watches Dani stomp away, the Majorcan’s mouth still slightly open, brain rotating to figure out what brought this along. _Maybe it’s because of the heat?_

*

”Vale?” Uccio sticks his head through the door and lowers it immediately, seeing the pillow fly in his direction.

”Go away. Leave me alone.”

With a sigh, he closes the door again, leaving the other in the almost dark room, buried under a pile of blankets, hiding from reality. _You fell even harder than I thought._

Sinking into a chair, he ponders on the possible solutions and ways out, but he cannot really come up with much. Usually, Vale is the one who does the plots. But tonight, Vale won’t be of help anymore. Uccio had seen the empty bottle of wine and he’d also smelled that his friend had smoked. In the bedroom. _Must have been bad._ And he scolds himself, because obviously it had been tough, the man Vale loved had denied their _thing_ , whatever they had turned it into – and Uccio feels quite sure they took it somewhere with the way they looked at each other on that picture – iin front of international media without batting an eyelid or blushing. Of course it’s been rough. Uccio sighs again, taking out his phone, randomly flicking through his contacts and stopping at a familiar entry. _If anyone, maybe you could say the right thing._ Eagerly, he picks up and dials, impatiently waiting for someone to reply.

”Hey, how are you?”

__

”You’ve seen the headlines?”

”Yes. How is he?”

”Coping.” Uccio ignores the faint sobbing he can hear through the closed door. “So, listen, I think I need you to come to Valencia and do me- or actually, him, a favor…”

*

With Marc having left for an early night, Alex sits alone in the sunset, another cigarette lit, his nerves slowly calming. Seeing Marc upset has never been easy on him and lately, it’s getting even harder than usual. He’s lost in thoughts and wondering how and when that thing – and he is sure there is a _thing_ \- between Marc and Vale started, when suddenly footsteps approach.

”I didn’t know you smoke.” Alex almost drops the cigarette when he hears his father’s voice and he blushes deep red without even looking over to the older man.

”Sorry,” he whispers.

”Don’t worry. As long as your results are as good as lately, I won’t mind too much.” He feels rather than sees Julia slide down the wall next to him, a hand resting on his shoulder. “How is Marc?”

”Not so well.”

”He lied, about him and Vale, didn’t he?”

_How the hell do you know?_

_You took my face in both your hands_   
_And looked me in the eye_   
_And I went down with such a force_   
_That in your grave I lie._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song by Brandi Carlile


	21. With Or Without You

It’s by far the most awkward podium he’s ever been on and he tries desperately to act normal around Valentino, but it’s not working too well. Whenever he’s near the Italian, he can feel the older rider become stiff and tense, serious. And Jorge is being weird, too, but Marc cannot really be bothered to figure out what’s wrong with the Majorcan. For all he knows, the weekend could just be erased from history forever. And he still has to face a press conference. Maybe he should have crashed out like Dani? That would have saved him from the interviews at least which will certainly revolve around him and Vale again.

The mere thought of the Italian sends a sting to his heart and through his guts. He shouldn’t think about it, but he just cannot stop. They can’t see each other. Obviously. It’s too dangerous. And he would never forgive himself if whatever they have shared with each other would get Vale into trouble. Or hurt one of their careers. It’s not that he consciously picks riding over Vale, it’s just that it feels there’s no alternative, no other way, because Marc Marquez without riding doesn’t exist – and neither does Valentino Rossi without racing. And it's not like he wants it to stop completely. He just thinks they should wait a bit before they do anything now. And he really needs to talk to Vale abou that. With a deep sigh, he walks down from the podium, not feeling like a winner at all today, only hoping it will at least be over soon. And it doesn't help at all that Alex's race didn't quite go as planned. _Damned Miller._

*

Vale faceplants on his mattress the second he gets back to his place, too worn out to even change out of his champagne soaked clothes. He’ll likely be runner up this season, best result he’s had in a while and all he’s thinking about is stupid Marc Marquez. What a ridiculous idea to try dating another rider. _What were we thinking?_ Normally, he’d be out smoking, but he’s too weak and feels too heavy even for that, burying himself in the pillows instead, telling himself that no, he is not crying for that little bastard and clenching his hands in the sheets, body shuddering. He wants to fall asleep. He has to fall asleep. Because right now, all that appears in front of his eyes, whether closed or not, are images of Marc, of the most beautiful eyes looking up at him affectionately, hero-worship written all over them, pictures of Marc flushed, ruffled, panting and with all his guards down - _and wow, I can’t believe I did that to you_ \- and that inglorious moment outside of the younger rider’s motorhome, when for maybe half an hour or so it seemed as if there was hope. Hope for them finding a way to have both, racing and each other, in whichever way they’d want to end up with each other. They haven’t even had sex. Probably they would never have made it that far. And still, that morning, when he looked into Marc’s eyes and saw the genuine happiness in them, he had in all honesty thought they had _something_. But well, Marc has made pretty clear what he thinks about that.

*

*

“WHY ARE YOU YELLING?”

“BECAUSE YOU ARE, TOO. AND BECAUSE YOU’RE A DAMNED COWARD AND I DON’T WANT TO TAKE IT ANY LONGER. I AM NOT WASTING THE REST OF MY LIFE WAITING FOR YOU TO BE READY TO ACCEPT YOURSELF.”

“THAT’S NOT EVEN WHAT THIS IS ABOUT. BUT I DON’T WANT TO HURT OUR CAREERS.”

“FUCK OUR CAREERS. AS IF THAT’S EVEN THE POINT. YOU JUST AREN’T READY TO FACE YOURSELF!”

“I AM FACING MYSELF. I JUST DON’T HAVE TO SHOW US OFF TO EVERYBODY AROUND US BECAUSE YOU ARE ENOUGH TO MAKE ME HAPPY. AND I DON’T NEED TO RUN AROUND SEARCHING FOR APPROVAL. YOU KNOW THAT YOU’RE JUST A RIGHTEOUS, SELFISH IDIOT? BECAUSE YOU DON’T EVEN CARE ABOUT YOUR ACTIONS CONSEQUENCES FOR OTHER PEOPLE. NOT ONE BIT. AS LONG AS IT’S OKAY FOR YOU, IT HAS TO BE FOR EVERYBODY ELSE, TOO.”

“OH, SO THAT’S WHAT YOU THINK OF ME THEN? GREAT. HAVE A NICE EVENING, MR. COWARD.”

Uccio stands frozen to the spot, his face probably deep red. He knows he should never have heard _that_ and he shouldn’t be seeing Dani stomp away from Jorge’s motorhome like this now. Not at all. He shakes his head in disbelief. _Jorge Lorenzo and Dani Pedrosa. And here I was thinking that Vale falling for Marc was crazy._ Either way, his idea of getting Jorge to talk sense into Valentino or at least get the rider to move from his bed, is obsolete now and trying to shake off the things he just witnessed, he rummages his brain for alternatives, only one coming to his mind eventually. _I’m sure you’re still close enough to get him to behave rationally again._ And as much as it bothers Uccio to admit it, Marc’s reaction is right. Risking their careers over something they haven’t even figured out seems pointless and there’s no reason why, after a brief break, they couldn’t resume whatever they had started. It’s not like another Marquez-visit at the ranch over the winter break would attract any suspicion. With a sigh, he turns around; hoping neither Jorge nor Dani noticed him and walks towards the other end of the paddock. _Please be there. And please understand… God, I hope I’m assuming right here._

*

”Bad race?” The voice behind him makes him jump and jerk his head around.

”Kind of. Could have been better.” Alex hugs the older rider, lips curling into an apologetic smile. “We should be celebrating with you.”

”Ah, that’s okay, I understand if you’re not up for it right now. You still have one to go.” Tito shrugs and Alex can’t help hugging him again, the simple understanding overwhelming him.

”Want one?” He holds his cigarettes out to Tito - _Damned Jack Miller. I blame you for these. Mostly._ Tito nods and they stand leaning against the fence for a while, T-Shirts clinging to them in the heat, faint smell of champagne surrounding them because Tito hasn’t found the time to shower and they stare into the sunset. Alex wonders if Tito knows or guesses that this isn’t so much about the race but more about Marc. _And it’s scary that Marc really matters more than results. But I’m pretty sure it goes both ways._ And in the end, it doesn’t matter much why Tito is standing here with him, reassuring hand on his shoulder, offering just the right comforting silence after a truly devastating weekend. All that does matter is that Tito is there.

*

_Sorry for texting, but I’m not sure it’s okay to call. Are we okay?_

Vale frowns at his phone, feeling the anger spread through his body like hot lava, briefly wondering if that’s how Salom feels during his tantrums and then he decides to take a deep breath and replies, typing heavily on the touchscreen, as if his fingers wanted to poke through the entire thing.

_I am okay. How you are, I have no idea. And there is no we._

_Can we talk about it, please? I didn’t want to hurt you._

_You decided all of this by yourself, without even asking me. And then you didn’t even call. You TEXTED me. And now YOU want to talk? No, thanks. You’ve done enough talking._

Vale’s phone hits the wall with a thud, display cracking immediately. For an instant, he feels relieved – and then regret swallows him, new wave of sobs and shudders running over him.

_You give it all but I want more_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> True classic tonight, song by U2 :)


	22. Blame It On Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter probably not until Sunday :/ because I'll be very responsible *cough* and go skiing anyway.
> 
> And thank you ♥ Your responses make my day!! And they're the reason why this is here and continued and everything ♥

”So, Marc and Vale," Uccio says slowly, eyebrows raised conspiringly, hoping to get a reaction out of the young rider.

”What do you know?” Alex is squinting at him, lower lip bitten.

”So you know that there is something to know?” Uccio feels hope rise in his veins, so waiting for the Rufea-riders to break apart in order to catch the young Marquez by himself has been worth it?

”Mhm.” Alex nods reluctantly. “So you know, too?”

”I knew before they did.” Uccio states blandly and he sees Alex’s eyes sparkle at that.

”Me too.” They both grin for a bit, until Alex face turns serious again, arms folded in front of his chest. “And why are you here?”

”Well… I know it’s a lot to ask… you still have the championship open and everything,” Alex cringes and Uccio hurries to continue, “but I thought we should help them fix that.”

For a moment, he is not sure how Alex will respond, because the young rider just stands there, wordless, slightly frowning, pensive, but then a broad grin spreads over his face and he holds the door open. 

”Okay, worth a try. Beer?”

 _Are you even old enough for- ah, who cares._ “Sure.” Uccio smiles back and follows him inside. _I hope this doesn’t backfire. It’s either my best or my worst idea ever…_

*

The days until Valencia simply trickle through their fingers, different than they planned them, but passing nonetheless. Marc finds them tense and difficult, his mind equally consumed by worries about Alex and missing Vale. And he feels scrutinized, as if the press was watching even more closely what exactly he was doing and with whom. It is unnerving to say the least, though not quite as much as the strange looks he keeps getting from Alex and his parents. _I’m old enough, I’m not fragile. I won’t break. Stop watching me like that._ He lowers his gaze, studying the pasta on his plate, avoiding his mother’s concerned eyes. 

The night before they leave for Cheste, he finds himself in the kitchen with his father, the two of them stuck with the dishes after his mother has gone out to see a friend and Alex has miraculously disappeared with a strange smirk on his face.

”Marc,” _Oh no. That’s the ‘you messed up son, now confess’-tone._

”Mhm?” He tries for innocent and calm, but his nerves are already beginning to fail him.

”Why did you lie to the press?”

 _This must be the feeling of a heart attack, right?_ Marc’s mouth goes dry and his head is spinning and he can all but answer his dad right now, only staring at Julia with widened eyes. Julia doesn’t help him, just stands there and waits and after a bit, Marc coughs and recovers enough to croak something.

”How do you-“

”Marc,” his father sits down at the table and motions for him to take a seat next to him, which he does as if he was in trance. “I know you. I have eyes. And I saw those pictures with you and Valentino and how you looked at him and then I remembered how you always seemed to look at him. I don’t care how many journalists you’re fooling, but you’re not fooling me.”

”Are you disappointed?”

”Disappointed about what?”

”About me and Vale.”

”No. Why would I?” Marc feels rocks fall from his chest but at the same time, he’s curious. “Because he’s a man? No, not at all. I, actually, we, because you’re mother feels the same way-“ Marc cringes, wondering just how obvious they’d been and how many people had figured it out by now, “we love you and Alex just because you’re you. And we want you to be happy. So if Vale makes you happy, then so be it.”

”But what if Vale doesn’t make me happy?”

”If you think that, you’ve never seen pictures of yourself next to him. Oh yes, he does. And that’s good. I mean, it’s not that I’m not a bit worried. He’s older, much older actually and he’s Valentino Rossi, but at the end of the day, yes, he makes you happy, without a doubt.”

They fall silent for a while, light becoming dim inside, only sounds coming from a ticking clock. Inside Marc’s head, thoughts are spinning madly, but deep down, he knows his dad is right. _Vale makes me happy. But is that really enough?_

”You know what I’m disappointed about though?”

Marc lifts his head, surprised at the sudden change in mood.

”I’m disappointed that you felt you had to lie about it.”

*

”Why should I take her?” Vale glares daggers at his friend, wondering what the hell he thought when he invited her of all people to come to Valencia and actually go to the gala.

”Vale, it’s going to be less suspicious. You’ll have a girlfriend, you can say you fixed things and you won’t have to worry about being seen with Marc anymore.”

”I wasn’t worried. He made a big deal of it.” Vale huffs and lights himself a cigarette, angrily staring over his property, off into the sunset. _We’re leaving tomorrow. Again. And I’ll have to pretend things are fine. Again._

”So you would really be comfortable with the world thinking you were in a relationship with Marc Marquez?”

”I would, okay, I really would.”

”See? And so will he eventually. So you guys have to be careful only for now. It’s not like you’re making a life choice here. It’s only the beginning for both of you, who knows what’s going to happen from here?”

”But-,“ Vale stops cold, the intuitive thought he is having scaring him out of his mind, because the realization just how hard he’s fallen for the young rider already without even noticing still hits him like a lightning bolt and makes him shiver and tremble.

”But what?” Uccio asks softly, putting an arm around his shoulder.

”But I think,” Vale barely whispers, “I would rather have him and have the world know about it than not have him at all.”

*

_I made our dad talk to him. I think he’s getting a grip._

_Same here. We did some talking, too. Found a date for him yet?_

_Tito has an idea._

_You told Rabat?_

_Yeah. I don’t think Marc would care. And Tito kind of figured it out himself after those pics leaked._

_Well, I guess they were too obvious in the first place. Are you okay? It’s a big weekend for you._

_Jajaja, they were. And yeah, thank you. I’ll make it._

_I sure hope you will._

Uccio puts his phone down with a satisfied grin and buries his head in the pillow. _This should do to push them in the right direction. And maybe we can figure out that Dani-Jorge-thing along the way… because I think, Marc and Vale might be aware of that. And if it doesn't work out, I guess they can always blame Alex and me for everything._

_We counted all our reasons, excuses that we made_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song by Georges Ezra


	23. Hangover

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of fast-forwarding, the prequel will follow tonight or tomorrow. ♥

**Valencia 2014, Monday morning...**

_I got a little bit trashed last night_   
_I got a little bit wasted, yeah_

Uccio wakes up with a pounding head and a very, very dry mouth. And the feeling that he might be dead already. Or about to die at least. His first attempts to sit up and open his eyes fail miserably, but eventually he manages to get his eyelids up at least about halfway - only to squeeze them shut right back again. _This is not my bed. Dammit. This. Is. Not. My. Bed._ Panic is now running right through him and along with the already desolate state of his head, he cannot manage to focus on a single though long enough to recall the events from the last night that are basically buried under a haze of what he thinks must have been vodka and tequila. And then, his head still in the pillow, he hears a low groan next to him, the mattress dips and someone hurries away, bathroom door slammed close, sound making him feel as if his head is about to explode. And that wouldn’t be the worst solution, obviously, because a blown up head seems more desirable than facing reality right now. _This is not my bed. And someone – no, not someone, some man, just got out this bed. And I don’t even know who he is._ From behind the bathroom doors, he hears the sound of retching and a faint whimper. _Okay. At least that means I’ll probably not be the only one who doesn’t remember a thing. Great._ With a sudden jolt of determination, he pushes himself up on his elbows, regretting it immediately and he gasps for air for a bit, waiting for the world to stop spinning before he manages to really sit up and then he opens his eyes, blinking against the actually soft light of a night lamp that feels like blinding sunlight to his sensitive eyes. He scans the unfamiliar room, seeing clothes that confirm, yes, this is a man’s room. And then his eyes fall to a medal on the nightstand – and then he knows. _Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no. I can never explain this._

*

Pain. His first thought in the morning is pain. It’s everywhere apparently but centered mostly in his head. Also, the world might be spinning. _Oh God, I hate tequila._ With a sigh, Alex manages to sit up, hands rubbing his face and he opens his eyes, first daylight coming in through the gap in the curtains and blinding him a bit. _Okay. At least this is my place. That’s good._ The rest however, is not quite as good because while he sits there, feeling dizzy and nauseous, he cannot help but notice the sound of someone else breathing next to him. He doesn’t dare to look over quite yet, trying desperately to remember. Yet, he stands no chance against the powerful black out that a flood of tequila has given him. _Rins started the body shot-thing, right? Oh, I’ll kill him._ And then his eyes dare to wander down, coming to rest on long, dark brown waves, looking tempting and soft and falling over the sheets and a very naked, narrow shoulder, pale, flawless skin. _Oh shit. This will need a lot of explaining._

*

Nicky feels like he’s been caught by a giant octopus, trapped in a mess of lanky limbs and he rushes to disentangle with growing despair, only sound from the person next to him a very soft snore before finally, they turn away and he manages to escapes, stumbling into the bathroom. Pretty much hugging the toilet, he loses the content of his stomach and then, his forehead covered in cold sweat and legs like pudding but at least his head a fair bit more sober, realizes that his toothbrush isn’t there. Because it most certainly isn’t pink. Clutching to the sink, he glances at his face in the mirror, shudders at the sight and then squeezes his eyes shut, trying to recall the events of the last night, especially worried about the identity of the room owner. Judging by the bathroom’s content, it’s a woman. So that much he knows. And with himself standing here naked, he can just about imagine what they’ve done. But who she is and how they ended up here is blurred. With a wary sigh, he opens his eyes again and splashes cold water to his face and then, dismissing the idea of stealing the pink toothbrush, takes some mouthwash. Better than nothing. _And now let’s face the truth._ He straightens his shoulder and trudges back towards the bedroom, carefully squinting at the still sleeping woman, who is now on her side facing away from him. Her body must be perfect judging by outline under the thin sheets and he sees a curtain of dark brown hair on the immaculate white pillows, only exposing a little bit of a beautiful, pale neckline. His stomach slowly starts turning upside down again and he holds his breath when realization slowly starts to sink in. _Her. Out of all the women there it has to be her._

*

Marc snuggles closer against the body next to him, familiar smell of aftershave enveloping him and making him feel home and comfortable. Except… he is not comfortable, which can be explained easily as he is asleep on the floor. _Oh. Right. So THAT really happened._ He sits up in the unfamiliar room, eyes glancing around and slowly getting accustomed to the still somewhat dim light. _It must still be early outside. No wonder you’re still sound asleep._ He stares down at the man next to him, subconscious smile spreading over his face. _I can’t believe they’d use such a childish trick on us._ A soft chuckle escapes his lips while he traces the other’s cheek and jawline with a single finger, stubble scratching his skin. _Though I can’t deny that we fell for it pretty easily, so their trap worked. Unbelievable, but they did a fine job with this._ It’s incredible how simple things are in the end, Marc realizes, while he still stares at the sleeping rider, his eyes full of fondness and his lips curled into a broad smile. The only thing that bothers him a little - or maybe a little bit more - is that he has an obvious and increasingly urgent problem in his pants. That he may need to take care of somehow. And he is not quite sure how or where their lines are established. Or if there are any after last night.

*

Dani rolls to his stomach and growls, realizing that everything hurts right now. And also, the room is too bright because someone forgot to close the curtains. With his eyes shut tightly, he pulls a pillow over his head. _We have tests today. Great. If I ever even get on a bike, I’m sure I’ll just fall off right on the other side again._ His hand reaches out, finding the body next to him and traces a line on the other man’s back, eliciting a low growl and then a strong arm wraps around his waist and pulls him closer, holding him really tight and he sighs contently, taking the others hand and squeezing it. He could stay like this forever, if only his phone wasn’t buzzing nonstop on the side table and the sound is driving him insane. It’s not the alarm, that would sound even crueler, so it must still be early and he cannot really imagine who in their right mind would try to reach him at this hour, the day after the FIM gala. It simply doesn’t make sense. But it’s still doing it, buzz, buzz, again and again and as comfortable as he feels snuggled up under the sheets with a possessive arm around him, that annoying noise that feels like it’s drilling right through his head, needs to go, so he reaches over to pick it up and while he takes it, he suddenly remembers. Not just the champagne. Too much champagne. But also what happened afterwards and while his cheeks start burning and his heart starts beating faster and faster, he doesn’t even have to check the display anymore, because he knows all too clearly now what the stress is all about. _Wow. Right. THAT happened._

*

Julia hasn’t had such a hangover for about a year. Definitely. Pretty much exactly a year actually, he ponders, images of Cervera’s celebrations last year flashing up in his head. But that’s not what he needs to remember right now, he thinks to himself with a frown, rubbing at the bridge of his nose and sitting up against the headboard very slowly in order not to make his head spin another time. _I hope I didn’t do anything to upset Roser at least._ He sighs, realizing that she’ll be making fun of him all day for this. _Back to last night though… what happened after that gala?_ He vaguely recalls that one of his sons didn’t even make it past the dinner and the other he remembers doing karaoke with Santi and leaving with the wrong girl. _Oh… I might have done some karaoke myself._ His cheeks feel as if they’re on fire now. _I will never hear the end of that._

*

Emilio has had better mornings, that much is for sure. _Damned Rins. Damned tequila. Damned party._ And anyway, he thinks to himself, these brothers owe me a pay rise. A heavy one. _They cannot seriously expect me to deal with these antics. But I guess I can’t complain too much, at least I don’t have to raise them._ He shudders at the idea while images of Roser fuzzing over her men appear in his head, ending with Roser dragging an incoherently singing Julia out of the restaurant with an exasperated sigh. _I guess in that case I prefer my job._

_So I can go until I blow up, eh_   
_And I can drink until I throw up, eh_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Taio Cruz


	24. Lola

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first half of the party, no real chronological order ;)  
> Don't worry, I shall be bringing Nicky back tomorrow ♥  
> And yup, borrowing Alex/OFC for this. Because it's damned hot ;) (I hope _you_ don't mind.)

_Well I'm not the world's most passionate guy_   
_But when I looked in her eyes well I almost fell for my Lola_

**Valencia 2014, Sunday evening…**

”Hey, you’re Marc,” she smiles at him and it takes his breath away for an instant. _Dammit, Tito, where did you find a girl like her so quickly?_ His eyes risk a quick glance up and down a perfec body in an amazing black dress, simple, not too revealing, but cut just to the point, showing the exactly perfect amount of cleavage and leg to make his knees go wobbly. She’s about his height and he notices the not quite so high shoes, briefly wondering if she did it on purpose, before he loses himself in the broad smile again, bright red lips and immaculate teeth hypnotizing him along with a pair of sparkly green eyes that somehow seem to promise trouble. It’s difficult to believe she just turned eighteen and he sincerely prays Tito didn’t cheat him on that information.

When he reaches out to take her hand, he is actually nervous, heart racing, mouth going dry, stomach twisting, the full program and he has to try hard to stop his voice from trembling.

”Yes, yes, that’s me,” he winces internally at his lack of coherent response, leave alone a flirty reply and coughs, “and you are Lorena, right?”

”Right, but my friends call me Lola,” she smiles even brighter and instead of just taking his hand automatically pulls him in for a quick hug and a peck to his cheek, which must be deep red by now. “We should leave, right?”

He pulls back, involuntarily feeling breathless and nods, wrapping a shaky arm around her narrow waist to pull her towards the car. They meet Alex and Tito on the way and he doesn’t fail to notice Tito’s self-assured grin and he would make fun of the helpless way Alex is stuttering around her, if he wasn’t struggling just as badly. _And although I could hump you here right away, you’re still not Valentino Rossi and you have no idea how much that thought scares me right now._

*

”Ciao Vale!” He looks into the familiar face, the beautiful smile, the soft voice and he trembles for a moment, but then his brain does a quick comparison between her and Marc and, Vale being more than a little shell shocked over his conclusion, the result is clear. She is drop dead gorgeous but she really isn’t the one. End of story. 

”Ciao Linda,” he hugs her and kisses her cheeks, then holds her away a bit, “and thank you so much for coming.”

”No problem.” She is beaming at him, genuinely beaming. But then, it’s not as if they split on bad terms. They just mutually realized that besides some great sex, they didn’t have anything in common and they’ve been friendly since. This, going out together, pretending to be something they weren’t, it’s different though.

”Well, thank you anyway. Not many people would have done that for me.” He means it, it’s great that Linda agreed to this. In the end, Vale’s rational side does understand that after that photo-affair, they should distract the press for a bit. 

”Aww, don’t say that,” he feels himself pulled into a proper embrace, her familiar perfume immediately making memories flash up in his head. “And actually,” she is whispering straight into his ear now, “Uccio promised to do me a favor, so basically, we’re even anyway.”

”A favor, huh?” He wraps an arm around her shoulder and pulls her along, ready to meet Uccio in the car and smirking dirtily. “I didn’t know you wanted favors from Uccio.”

She laughs, that same soft and beautiful sound he always loved so much and pokes his ribs.

” _Those_ favors I don’t want from Uccio. But he will introduce me to _someone_.” And Vale can hear the innuendo in her voice and when it goes down without the least spark of jealousy on his side, he knows he’s certainly over her.

*

”Oh, hey Lola!” Alex feels his face redden against when he tries to talk to her without slurring, “Want to have tequila with us?”

”Sure,” she’s actually beaming and if she keeps looking at him like that, Alex is sure he will start flying instead of walking.

He almost stumbles over his own feet when her arm casually wraps around his waist on their way towards Rins and Tito and then he remembers their original plan and he her, a bit away from the others.

”Marc?” He almost whispers.

”Dropped off as promised. I’m free now.” She keeps walking, pulling him along and she says it with a wink that almost makes him fall over.

*

Tito sees them approach the bar together and he has to admit they make a fine couple, but he’s not capable of much more coherent thinking, Rins and the tequila are slowly taking their toll.

”Hey, you gotta be Marc’s girlfriend, right?” Rins obviously likes her, too. Tito won’t blame him, she is just a friend or maybe even more a little sister for him, but he does know that she is mightily gorgeous. 

”Yeah, hi, I’m Lola! And you’re Alex and the one he,” she points at the red faced younger Marquez next to her, ”owes his title to.”

Tito suppresses a laugh at Alex’s cringing face. Under a thick cloud of alcohol and pure joy - after all he is not just here to play cupid, he has a world championship to celebrate – he briefly wonders if Alex being so close to the girl who is supposedly Marc’s girlfriend will be an issue for their PR plans, but then Rins holds out another round of shots and the worry is quickly forgotten.

They chat and laugh and it’s smooth and fun and relaxed, the tension of an entire season dissolving in the best possible way. It’s even better when Uccio and Linda approach them, hand in hand, smiling knowingly and giving them a secret nod. When Linda leans in to give him a hug, Tito almost falls on her and he somehow seems to need the bar to hold on to by now. Which is okay, because it looks like the others aren’t doing much better and maybe he would mind the way Alex is doing body shots with Lola if he wasn’t so beautifully appeased by the tequila, so right now, he really doesn’t care. And he cheers loudly, when someone actually starts karaoke, Julia being one of the first to try and Roser’s and Alex’s horrified faces pure gold. It’s not long before Alex drags a hesitant Lola towards the stage and while he watches them doing a rather painful version of “You’re the one that I want”, he notices that Uccio and Linda are gone. _It’s a shame, that Italian is more fun to talk to than I thought._

*

Roser feels like she is a witness of some horrible car accident, it’s terrifying, but she cannot look away, her husband embarrassing himself with some Elvis song. And the way he tries to dance. She sighs with exasperation. And that is not even all, because despite this whole dinner and party being his celebration – well, Alex’s and Tito’s, too, but anyway –she has not seen her older son at all. As if the ground has swallowed him right after the gala. Speaking of which, he said he’d invited Rossi and she HAS seen Uccio and Linda, but there’s no sign of the Italian either. Confusing. At least, her husband has stopped singing and she sees him stumble towards her, almost tripping over a chair and cannot help smiling. _All those years and you haven’t changed one bit._ Her relief only lasts a few minutes, because when Julia’s back at the table, slurring something about Jack Miller, Santi laughing hysterically and poor Emilio almost faceplanting on the table, she notices her younger son enter the stage – dragging along the girl that’s supposed to be her older son’s girlfriend. And somehow, their performance, arms around each other, heads touching, Alex’s hand slowly moving in not-friendzone-regions, seems a bit too close for her taste. And she’s all the more confused when she points it out to her husband and he just shrugs.

*

Alberto leans against the bar, feeling tired and worn out and clutching to another shot of whiskey. What a season. And what kind of a season’s end, with his usual grumpy rider even grumpier than usual. _I should demand a pay rise. I definitely should._ Then his eyes fall on Alex Marquez licking salt from the collarbone of his older brother’s girlfriend and he instantly feels a bit better, _because at least I don’t have to look after these two kids._ And Dani is nowhere to be seen anymore, which makes him hopeful that his rider has actually listened to him and taken a taxi home before he lets things go down the drain. _Maybe I should listen to my own advice._ With a sigh he orders another drink.

”Hey, drowning your sorrows by yourself?” A familiar voice says next to him, its owner taking a clumsy seat on the stool next to him.

”Hi Emilio. That’s pretty much it.” _Oh God, I’m slurring._ “So, where’s your number one rider? Shouldn’t he be claiming back his girlfriend?”

Surprised, he watches Alzamora down an entire shot without batting an eyelid before his fellow manager sighs deeply. ”Well, going by what Julia just told me, that’s a long story.”

*

Lola cannot help but giggle over Rins’ jokes and that’s when she knows she’s had too much tequila. And she keeps moving closer and closer to Alex, the wrong Marquez, but he doesn’t stop her and she doesn’t want to, because it seems he has some kind of magnetic power over her, attracting every cell of her body towards him. Now he’s taking another of those vicious shots from Tito, who at the beginning of the night sometimes shot her concerned glances but is too far gone to even notice by now anymore, lost in a senseless conversation about wine with Uccio. With a devilish grin, she takes the salt from it, putting some on her shoulder and collarbone and Alex only hesitates for a second before she feels his tongue on her skin, sending shivers and electric bolts through her body and making her hand clutch to his shirt to keep herself from falling over. _Damned. You should have a warning attached to you. You’re way too addictive._ And when he looks at her, slice of lemon in his mouth and wrapping his hand around her neck in response, she cannot restrain herself, because Alex Marquez, flirting cheekily with ruffled hair and red cheeks is beyond her capacities and she leans in, tossing the fruit with her teeth and kissing him. Properly. With tongue and everything, taste of lemon and tequila everywhere, teeth clashing because they’re both a bit uncoordinated and much intoxicated, but the kiss feeling every bit sensual and passionate, leaving both of them breathless and with slightly widened eyes. So racing is not the only thing he’s good at, that much she’s found out about him now.

_And I'd never ever kissed a woman before_   
_But Lola smiled and took me by the hand_   
_And said dear boy I'm gonna make you a man_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song by The Kinks and yes, I named her Lola only to be able to finally use that :)


	25. Linda

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note that the order is not strictly chronological ;)
> 
> And I'm bringing ~~sexy~~ Nicky back ♥

_When I go to sleep_   
_I never count sheep_   
_I count all the charms about Linda_

**Valencia 2014, Sunday night…**

”Hey Alex, I’ll be leaving, I’m not really in the mood for party. Any idea where Marc went?” 

Alex bites his lips, remembering what Uccio told him the other day and suppressing a nervous giggle at the image of Dani kissing Jorge that’s forming in his head. Then, he straightens his back and gives the smaller rider his most innocent shrug.

”No idea what he’s up to.” _And that’s almost true._

”Well, okay. I think I’m out of here anyway. Tell him I said hi and congrats and everything.”

Alex nods and watches Dani turn around, wondering whether he should or could get involved in the mess and then, maybe already a bit tipsy with champagne, calls his name.

”Dani?” The small rider turns around, eyebrows raised, face grumpier than ever. “You know what Marc did the other day, right?” He waits for the hesitant nod. “Well, I’m often the last to agree with him. But he wasn’t selfish, you know? It’s both of their careers and entire lives behind it and Marc also knows how much other people depend on him and his performance.”

*

”Linda, sorry, but I really cannot find your bag anywhere here. Are you sure this is the room where you left it?” Vale’s eyes wander around the few tables in the small side room one more time and he shrugs. No bag. And why would she have left it here? The wardrobe is on the other side. He turns towards the door, but the figure stumbling, or possibly being shoved, inside, is not Linda. Not even close.

”Bye Marc, sorry, but it’s for your best.” He hears a chirp outside before the door is slammed shut, too quickly for an apparently paralyzed double MotoGP world champion to do anything else but stare at it and Vale hears the tell-tale sign of a key being turned around.

*

”Uccio, where’s Vale? I want to leave and still have his keys.” 

_You have his keys? Oh right… you forgot your trousers… but why are you wearing those then? Didn’t find anything? Probably… you’re too short. Should have asked Marc._ Uccio takes his eyes from Jorge’s legs and gives the Majorcan his most innocent smile. 

“I have no idea where he is. But if you want to, I can take the keys.” _He won’t need them anytime soon, promised._ And he takes them from a grateful Jorge Lorenzo, hugging the rider goodbye with a sigh.

”And Jorge?” The Majorcan who was leaving already turns back around, face questioning. “I know you haven’t been given much reason to yet, but sometimes you just need to have some faith and trust in the world so that you can be courageous and brave enough to be trusted in return.” _Now I phrased that exactly the way he would say it, didn’t I?_

*

“So they locked us in?” Vale sits down on a table, hands propped up behind his back and stares at the still shell-shocked Honda rider in front of the door.

Marc just nods, hand grabbing the handle again, with no improvement of their situation.

“How very mature.” The Italian suppresses a giggle.

“Well, Alex is only 18, so is Lola.” Marc raises an eyebrow and Vale is relieved to see the young rider smirking, relieved to see him loosen up finally. “What’s Uccio’s and Linda’s excuse?”

*

”So,” Linda is standing in the cool drizzle, feeling herself sober up just enough and hoping it’s the same for Uccio who was most definitely stumbling on their way from Rins’ tequila-session to the smokers’ corner, she leans over to the Italian, holding out her cigarette and waiting for him to light it. “I did my job. Now you do yours, right?”

”Are you sure?”

”Yes, thank you very much, _daddy_. I think I can watch out for myself.” She sees him cringe over the name and smiles, knowing he won’t be able to resist her anyway.

”I still don’t see why you need me to meet him.” The Italian mutters, leaning back against the wall and taking a deep drag.

”Hm, maybe I don’t really. Though I wouldn’t have had a good reason to show up here if you hadn’t called, so thanks for that.” 

”Well, you did help me, or rather Vale, quite a bit, too. And the press should be fed for a bit.” He shrugs and she nods. _They will. We made a good show on that carpet._

”See? And since I don’t want to walk up to him and chat him up in front of everybody now, it would be neat if you could give him a call and get him to come outside. And don’t give me that face. I know about his reputation and I can take care of myself. Promised. And you said you would do it.” She pouts slightly, loving the exasperated sigh and slight blush she gets from Uccio in return.

”Okay, okay. I’ll text him that you’re here. I think he’ll be out within a matter of seconds, he already had an eye on you during the Ducati years.”

”Oh, I know,” Linda smirks, taking another drag from her cigarette. _Oh yeah, I know the way he looks at me…_

*

Having survived Alex and Lola doing karaoke, Tito makes his way to the bar, where he finds Alberto and Emilio sitting in joined misery, clutching to some whiskey and then, from the corner of his eye, notices Uccio return and decides to approach the Italian instead, the Spanish managers not seeming a very enjoyable company at the moment. And after all, he’d shared a pretty funny conversation with Uccio earlier that night. And maybe he had felt this little bit of electricity on his skin whenever they’d been standing too close with their tequila.

”Hey, have you been outside? You look cold!” _Damned. He’s a smoker. What kind of stupid question is that?_

”Um. Yeah. Just helping Linda out with a favor.”

”Maybe more tequila to warm you up?” Tito tries to wink at Uccio and points at the bar, ready to ask the bartender for a bottle and supplies. _What am I doing here? I can’t be chatting up a guy in the middle of my championship celebration?_ On the other hand though, who said he couldn’t after he knows for a fact that the four top riders in MotoGP are currently doing almost the same. _After all, I’m only following their best examples here, right?_ And he smiles when Uccio nods at him with a broad smile and maybe a hint of a wink in his eyes.

*

”You think they’ll let us back out soon?” Marc leans back against the wall, feeling tired and worn out.

”Don’t know. It’s been an hour, right? So I guess.” Vale slides down the wall next to him, their arms brushing against each other and sending one of those shivers down Marc’s spine that apparently only the Italian rider can cause him to feel.

”You’re not lighting that?” He stares at the cigarette in Vale’s hand.

”Why? Do you mind the smell?”

”No, but what if it causes a fire alarm?”

”Well, at least they’ll find us then.” The Italian declares with a shrug and Marc cannot help but giggle. _You’ve got a point there._

For a moment, they both sit in silence and Marc wonders what kind of surreal situation this is, locked in some sort of private room in a restaurant, sitting on the floor with their backs against the wall, locked in by there “pretense-girlfriends”. And somehow, he doesn’t mind at all, instead, he’s just amazingly happy to be close to Vale again, whatever the circumstances may be, because damned, he’d missed that crazy Italian in his life so badly.

”Listen Vale,” he swallows and then meets the Italian’s curious gaze, his heart beating nervously, “I’m sorry. Not really for what I did, I still think I was right, but for not talking to you first.”

*

”Linda?” He beams at her, images of a messy kiss popping up in his head, a kiss full of regret but also passion, secretly exchanged two years ago and though brief and a one-time experience, never forgotten, every detail from her smell to the feel of her soft lips engraved in his memory.

”Hey, you came.” She beams at him and it’s like a switch, setting him on fire immediately and making him want to pick up right where they left two years ago.

And it seems a bit like a dream, because she’s actually standing there, arms wide open, smile more beautiful than ever, grey dress damp from the rain. He can hear his own blood rush in his head, but he’s pretty sure this is real and he’s not drunk enough to be misinterpreting anything here, so he takes the plunge, closing the gap, arms going around her waist and finding her hands in his neck.

”I never forgot.” He says hoarsely, their eyes locking intensely.

”Me neither. I missed you, Nicky.” His name on her lips, spoken with the cutest accent ever, is all the encouragement he needs to press his lips against hers.

He waits, only their lips touching, hoping for her to take the next step now, which she does, tongue tentative on his bottom lip. His mouth opens instantly and their kiss deepens quickly, soft turning to passionate, passionate turning to messy. It’s just as if they continued where they left off all that time ago, he thinks, clutching to her waist and feeling her fingers in his hair. And when they finally break apart, need for oxygen becoming too strong, they’re both breathing heavily, eyes meeting each other’s dark with lust. 

”Your place or my place?” He feels her mouth against his ear, hears the breathless whisper and it goes straight to his groin. _Maybe it is a dream after all. But then, it’s the best dream of my life._

*

”You know what’s strange?” Marc looks at him expectantly and Vale has to concentrate hard to focus on the words and not the face of the younger rider, with his cheeks flushed from the champagne earlier, or his body, the glimpse of his chest showing where he unbuttoned his shirt. Vale gulps, trying to return to conversation.

”What’s strange?” He asks, his voice coming out a bit hoarse.

”You know,” Marc leans against him now, head dropped to his shoulder and Vale holds his breath. “With girls, I always find them hot. And then I chat them up and it goes from there. But you… I don’t know… I mean, I never looked at you and thought you were hot. I never thought that about a guy before you actually. “ _Who are you telling that, kiddo?_ Vale gulps again. “But I liked you and I guess it went from there, you know? And now, when I look at you-“ Marc’s hands cup his face and turn it so their eyes meet, Marc’s stare intense and his eyes almost completely black, sending further shivers down Vale’s spine. “Now I look at you and I just want to be all over you, you know? I don’t really know how that happened, because you’re still a man. No boobs, no butt, totally not my type,” Vale laughs softly and puts a finger to Marc’s lips to silence him. 

”I know what you mean. Believe me, I know exactly what you’re talking about,” Vale gulps again. The fact that instead of banging against that door or calling someone to rescue them, Marc just stayed here with him, without any actual need to do so, is enough prove that – despite what happened after Malaysia, Marc has been honest about his feelings. The Italian draws in a sharp breath, heart ready to explode in his chest again. “You know,” he says hoarsely, eyes staying locked with Marc’s, “if you wanted to be all over me right now… I wouldn’t mind so much, I think.”

*

”Oh no, you are not going back on that stage.” Roser grabs her husband’s arm with more force than most people would expect from her, pulling him along with her. “We are leaving. Now.”

”But they’re playing Elvis.”

”Exactly, it’s Elvis and we’ve had enough of Elvis for a bit. We’re going.”

”We have to tell Marc and Alex goodnight first,” he tries to break free again but she determinedly stirs him towards the doors.

”As you told me earlier, Lola and Linda have locked up Marc and Vale somewhere around here and they might be up to things we really don’t want to see. And Alex has left with Lola a while ago and they actually told you goodbye which you might have missed because you were trying to tell a horrendous joke to Santi and now stop looking at me with that puppy face and get into that taxi.” 

He sings _Love me tender_ , all the way until they’re in the car and although she knows she should be annoyed, she cannot help but smiling fondly. _All these years and you haven’t changed one bit._

*

”Did Rabat just leave with Uccio?” Emilio tries to point towards the door of the almost empty bar and almost slides from his stool. 

”Mhm.” Alberto nods, his hands clutching to the bar to avoid falling himself, the world spinning dangerously around him. _I should have known better than to drink with you, Alzamora._

”Strange.”

Alberto bursts into a fit of laughter and it takes a while before he can stop again, coughing breathlessly and staring at Emilio’s clueless face.

”Sorry,” he slurs with a shrug, “But you told me that the current MotoGP champion and his runner up are locked here somewhere and that my little Dani has been having an affair with Jorge Lorenzo for more than a year and that the two of them might be having either _make up sex_ or a fist fight right now. And we’ve seen the younger, supposedly innocent and shy Marquez do karaoke, smoke cigarettes and hook up with the girl who should play his brother’s girlfriend. So really, do you still think Tito and Uccio leaving together is all that strange?”

* _elsewhere in Valencia…_

”We have to talk.” They say it simultaneously, almost bumping into each other in the hallway.

Jorge wishes he hadn’t had that vodka at the hotel bar and hopes his voice stay steady.

”I’m sorry,” he starts, but Dani interrupts him, putting his hands on his shoulders, the touch burning through the fabric of his shirt.

”No, I’m sorry.” And he’s relieved to notice that the older rider slurs just as badly as he does.

With Dani so close to him again, he suddenly notices all the more just how much he’s missed him and his forehead drops to Dani’s head with a sigh, his arms going around the smaller man’s waist and feeling him relax into the touch.

”Let’s just… go to my room before are all over each other in the hallway?” Jorge looks down, feeling as nervous as during their first date and a huge grin spreads over his face when Dani nods.

”But Jorge?”

The Majorcan slides the keycard through the lock and manages to open the room at the third attempt, looking over to Dani with a puzzled expression.

”You have to change your trousers, okay?”

_Someday I'll betcha_   
_I'm gonna getcha_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song by Perry Como


	26. I Was Made For Loving You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dani chapter, woo ♥
> 
> I am going on Christmas "vacation" soon, so this will go on a break until the beginning of January and until then, enjoy ;)
> 
> Thank you for everything and feedback as always massively appreciated ♥

_And tonight I wanna lay it at your feet_

”So,” Jorge stares into Dani’s eyes, cupping the smaller man’s face to force him to look back at him. “you want me take them off?”

A dirty smirk crosses Dani’s face before he nods and licks his lips, Jorge feeling his groin twitch and his legs tremble.

”Well, why don’t you do that then?” He takes hold of Dani’s wrists and slides the other man’s hands down to his lap until they’re against the fly of his jeans and he sees Dani’s eyes darken dangerously.

”I thought,” the pressure against Jorge’s bulge increases, making him moan softly, “you’d never ask.”

And Jorge, who is usually more than reluctant to give up control, surrenders to Dani’s touch. After all the insecurity of the past two weeks where more than once he’d thought that he’d lost Dani forever, all he wants now is to feel him, close, closer, closest. He wants to feel Dani, smell Dani, hear Dani, breathe Dani and he lets the smaller man undress him, teasingly slow. Opening button for button, littering his neck and collarbones with little kisses, Dani backs him up against the wall. Which is a good thing, because without the support, Jorge thinks he’d fall to the floor with his jelly-like legs. Dani’s finger do their work, still slowly, but with determination and the kisses and licks move down his chest, find his navel and then, the shirt fully open and Dani’s hands holding onto his hips, travel even lower. With a low growl, Jorge’s hands clench into the smaller rider’s hair, tugging a bit too hard probably but desperate for every bit of hold they can find. Although they’ve done this countless times before, it still feels overwhelmingly good, pushing Jorge towards his limits quickly and making his mind go blank, when Dani shoves down his pants, kissing him through the damp fabric of his boxers. His grip in Dani’s hair tightens and his heart races now and he knows they should be talking, but this is just too good to stop and be reasonable. 

”You look so beautiful like this,” Dani pulls his head back, looking up to him through his lashes, smiling and Jorge could come from the words only, a wave of affection and neediness washing over him. Before he can gather enough power to voice a reply, Dani’s hands slide down his boxers, cock springing free and mind going back to a state of speechless blankness. 

A loud string of curses falls from his lips when Dani’s mouth closes around his tip and then the world stops turning. _I missed you so much._

*

_'Cause girl, I was made for you_

”Wow, this looks nice. And it’s on Marc’s credit card?” She turns around, hair swinging along beautifully.

He closes the door behind them and watches her stand across the room, biting her lower lip and blinking more than a little seductively.

”Yes, Marc’s card. So, feel free to raid the minibar!” He feels his cheeks turn red over the badly hidden nervousness in his voice. 

And maybe another drink wouldn’t be a bad idea for him as well, because he feels his entire body shaking with nervousness when he looks at her now, standing there and looking perfect, a finger playing with a streak of dark hair and still biting down on her lip. But he cannot get a drink, simply because his legs apparently have turned to lead and he’s glued to the spot, confined to watch her, his cheeks heating more and more until he’s sure that they’re the color of lobster.

”Aw, you look almost scared.”

She sounds dangerous and in a way, she even looks dangerous, stalking over to him like a lion who spotted a piece of pray, her hands sliding down his blazer with ease and her lips moving close to his ear.

”Don’t be scared, little Bambi. I’ll be gentle with you.” 

And he wants to reply, wants to inquire about that nickname, but no sound comes from his mouth that, by the way, is as dry as a desert. When he’s just about to manage at least a coherent word, she starts nibbling on his earlobe, her fingers now starting to unbutton his shirt and any communication skills he had left are gone with the soft brush of her finger tips against one of his now freed nipples.

”God, you taste delicious.” Her tongue traces a line down his chest, ending just about his navel and his hands are desperately searching for hold, finding it in the edge of a nearby drawer, while his legs feel like pudding and his brain has most definitely just decided to stop functioning for the rest of the night.

”I wonder if all of you tastes so delicious,” she blinks up at him innocently, a finger hooking his belt loop and her voice almost purring. It’s not that he doesn’t want to say or do anything, but he feels paralyzed by her. Her hands shove down his pants and he gulps, knowing what’s about to happen and feeling nowhere near ready for It, until her tongue runs over his length and he almost chokes trying to hold back the curse.

”Fuck!”

With a devilish grin, she blinks up to him again, her hands taking a firm hold of his hips.

”Later, Bambi, later.” 

*

_Tonight I wanna see it in your eyes_

They kiss for what feels like an eternity, Marc moving to straddle Vale’s legs, chests flushed against each other, heartbeats vibrating through trembling bodies and hands holding onto hair as if clinging to dear life. They’re both beyond breathless, lips swollen, red and chapped from the biting and sucking, when they finally pull apart and stare at each other. Marc loses himself in the beautiful oceans that are Vale’s eyes, overwhelmed with the sheer love he can now actually see in them and guilt for his thoughtless interview crashing down on him relentlessly.

”Vale?” It’s nothing but a weak whisper.

”Hm?” The Italian is still catching his breath.

”Are you still angry at me?” Marc feels his pulse race and hears his blood rush, his hands still clenched tightly in Vale’s curls.

”Aw, Bambino,” he feels a soft kiss against his forehead, “I’m not angry at you. I’m angry at myself. And the world. But not at you. I could never.”

*

_And I can't get enough of you baby_

”Mh, you taste just as good as you did then.” Linda pulls her head back, looking into his blue eyes and feeling her own vision get blurry with lust when he stares back intensely, grip around her wrists tightening slightly.

”So do you.” He pulls her closer for another messy kiss and she feels her lap get warmer and warmer. When his hands trace lines down her spine, seemingly accidentally taking the zipper along, blow of cool air making her shiver, she cannot hold back the needy sound that escapes from her throat. It makes him pull his head back with a smug face and a small chuckle.

”Eager?” His finger traces her upper lip and she presses their bodies flush against each other, desperate for more of him, her tongue flicking out to lick over his digit, content about the small moan that elicits.

Then his lips are back on hers, kiss rough this time, his teeth biting down on her lip.

She whines softly, but he just lets out another chuckle into her mouth and starts pushing her backwards until her legs hit the back of the bed. She doesn’t keep him from shoving down her dress, letting it pool on the floor carelessly and just steps out of her heels before he’s pinning her down on the bed, kissing a wet line down her body. His hands make quick works of her panties and she feels exposed, vulnerable when she’s lying there naked for him, while he’s still more or less fully dressed, only having stepped out of shoes and socks so far. 

He sheds the jacket now though and she stares at the movement of his muscles under the white shirt, look almost making her drool and certainly making her even more wet than she was anyway. She pulls him back down by his tie and he gives in, kissing her gently for a bit more, before his tongue traces the same line down as before, his fingers running along the inside of her thighs teasingly. And it makes her so needy, she doesn’t even blush when her legs fall open, giving him access to everything and she can just about imagine what he is about to do, but it doesn’t prepare her at all for the moment when it does. She growls with despair, her fingers scraping the sheets for hold, when his tongue finds her clit, licking at first and then sucking. Her mind is gone, otherwise she would at least try to maintain some composure, but she feels reduced to a needy puddle, her hips moving, trying to meet his finger’s thrusts with pure want. He is even better at this than she would have dared to hope, slowly adding a finger and then another one, fucking her in a rhythm that’s almost but never quite enough, leaving her hanging helplessly and the small licks of his tongue, circling her clit again and again do the rest to make the noises spilling from her mouth more and more embarrassing, loud, wanton and incoherent. With absolute certainty he drives her towards the edge, not even hesitating to push her over it, his name echoing through the room while her body convulses from the waves of pleasure running over it.

She’s all fireworks and explosions and his fingers fuck her through the waves lazily, his tongue never leaving her clit until it gets too much. But when she tries to squeeze her legs shut, his hands grab her thighs, keeping them apart and his tongue darts out to lick her, again, making her wail loudly. With increasing despair, she tries to stop him, tries to escape from his hold, but he won’t stop. 

”No, I can’t,” she breathes out, her eyes squeezed shut and her whole body shuddering, but he still doesn’t let go, his tongue now entering her slowly and she most certainly wakes the entire hotel with her scream.

”God, I’ll kill you.” The words come out slurred between her heavy breathing and between her legs, she hears him chuckle, his tongue letting go of her in favor of his fingers.

”Aw, no,” he lifts his head briefly, his eyes meeting hers and the most evil expression she has ever seen written all over his face, “you won’t, you like this too much.”

*

_Somehow, from possibly chatting up someone, this has gone into a completely different direction._ Tito leans back against the headboard, looking at the curled up body next to him. They had talked and talked, about families, mothers, babies, just everything, things he normally wouldn’t even speak to Marc and Alex about and it’s felt good and relieving, at least right now, where the haze of alcohol still keeps the embarrassment away at arm’s length. For what it’s worth, Uccio is a great listener and even better at comforting and for Tito, who admits he’s felt increasingly lonely over the last races, his usual best friend distracted by a certain Valentino Rossi, it’s been the best conversations he’s had in a while. Getting a fresh view, an outsider’s perspective on his life, the struggles he’s feeling he’s being put through helped, a lot. And somehow, it’s been easier talking to Uccio than it is to talk to Marc and Alex, where he always feels he has to mask his jealousy over their family life, their talent, their status as golden boys. But even the best listener at one point or another would surrender to the flood of tequila Rins has poured over them and the Italian, instead of leaving and going to his own room, a floor lower only, had yawned a final time, turned around and gone straight to sleep, causing Tito to grin with amusement. And it’s not like he wouldn’t have liked some meaningless sex for his celebration, but in the end, a meaningful conversation wasn’t too bad either.

*

_And I can give it all to you baby_

Dani hums approvingly when Jorge comes down his throat, the Majorcan’s body trembling and hands tugging on Dani’s hair painfully. _I can’t believe I can do this to you._ It still fascinates him, even after more than a year. He’d never have thought Jorge Lorenzo could let down his guards at all and he certainly wouldn’t have expected that the sight could be so delicious, with Jorge’s muscles twitching under the tanned skin, his face glowing with a thin layer of sweat, his eyes closed. _You trust me. I think that’s the really big thing about it, you actually trust me._ Gently and slowly, he motions to lay Jorge down on the bed, spreading the pliant body under him and capturing the taller rider’s mouth with his, tongue tracing his lips teasingly. 

”Ready?” Dani pulls his head up and Jorge’s eyes spring open, followed by a frantic nod.

”Yes, please.” The words alone would be enough to make Dani hard and spoken with that low, hoarse voice, they’re even better. 

He doesn’t hesitate now, fingers finding the bottle of lube quickly and pouring a fair amount over his fingers. With Jorge’s hands now clutching to his shoulders and his lips sucking a small bruise to Jorge’s neck, Dani’s fingers find their aim, one after the other pushing inside. He takes things slowly, no urgency felt tonight, only tentatively moving inside the Majorcan until he finds the spot that makes the other wail. _You have no idea how hot you are._

*

_And girl you were made for me_

She wraps him in a hug, holding him closer, her legs around his waist pulling him, urging him to go deeper, faster and guiding him along the way. They haven’t talked about it, she cannot say with absolute security, but she is pretty sure that he’s a virgin. Or was a virgin until a few seconds ago, the way he blushed and trembled when he realized this was on offer seems like a tell-tale sign. Nevertheless, he’s doing great at this, she cannot deny, her moans getting louder by the second because his fingers are between her legs and pretty good at finding just the right spots, over and over again. Pulling him down again, she nuzzles her head in the crook of his neck, silencing herself by pressing her lips against his soft skin while he picks up some more pace. _Racer, huh?_ When his thumb starts rubbing over her clit just the way she’d do it herself, she loses it and comes with a soft cry, muffled by his body, her nails digging harshly into the skin on his back. And he follows her quickly, all his muscles tense in her hold for an instant before he moans a final time and collapses on top of her, both of them breathing heavily. _You have a pretty impressive learning curve. And I could definitely get used to this._

*

_Can you get enough of me?_

He makes her come a second time, feeling her muscles tighten around his fingers and this time he stops afterwards, sitting back on his heels and watching her for a moment. She is the most beautiful woman he has ever met, absolutely breathtaking, but seeing her unravel, making her come apart like this, is beyond beautiful. It’s perfection and bliss and it’s incredibly hot, scorching every inch of his skin just from watching her. She looks wrecked in the best possible way, lipstick messy, cheeks flushed, chest heaving erratically, eyes still shut and legs still open, inviting. He knows he has to let her catch his breath, but he won’t be able to resist the temptation much longer and gets up, slowly undressing himself, eyes never leaving her perfect body, splayed out for him like a sacred offering, halo of dark hair on the shimmery white pillow.

It’s impossible to hold back any longer, his cock achingly hard now for a while and Nicky crawls over her, lips finding hers, a desperate moan spilling into their kiss. He makes it a languid kiss, tender, without hurry this time, his hands mapping her body, treasuring the perfection, reveling in the way she shivers under each touch. He takes his time to discover her now, to find out what caress earns him which response, before he puts her ankles on her shoulders and pushes insider her without further warning, a wail released into their kiss. He stills his movement and caresses her face, their eyes meeting for a moment. She looks up to him with so much lust and need, it drives him up the wall and when she tentatively bucks her hips up against him, it’s all the encouragement Nicky needs to start thrusting inside her relentlessly. _Two years. I’ve waited two fucking years for this._ He comes embarrassingly quickly. He doesn’t think she cares much though, as his fingers rub over her sweet spot a final time, her muscles clamping down harshly announcing her third orgasm and his name echoing through the room again. And he collapses on top of her, feeling as wrecked as she looks, her lips pressing a surprisingly tender and timid kiss to his temple.

”I’ve waited two years for this,” she whispers breathlessly and Nicky cannot help but smile. _Same, same, baby._

*

_And tonight we're gonna make it all come true_

”Marc,” Vale holds him closer, loving the way the younger rider relaxes into his arms.

”Mhm?” His voice is muffled by Vale’s clothes.

”Do you think there’s really a realistic chance for this to work out?”

”Actually, I’m absolutely sure it’s going to blow up in our faces.”

Vale feels his heart shatter over Marc’s words, wave of cold crashing over his body.

”But I’m also sure,” a gently finger runs through his hair, making the Italian shiver, “that we can deal with that if we try together.”

*

_I was made for lovin' you baby_  
 _You were made for lovin' me_

Jorge lies there, panting helplessly and still feeling a little spaced out, drained but in a happy way, only slightly sore. Dani has collapsed on top of him and curled up under the sheets, looking adorably ruffled and completely spent. And Jorge remembers everything, it’s all coming back to him, their first shy “dates”, where they’d been dancing around their desires awkwardly, kissing clumsily, talking about everything and nothing to avoid the way back to the hotel. And he remembers that first night spent together, the way Dani had cared about him, always putting his needs first, never forgetting to make sure he was absolutely comfortable through everything they did and then he remembers Dani’s face two weeks ago, after their fight, all the hurt and pain written over it so openly. Regret is all he feels and it’s such a strong, powerful emotion right now that it takes his breath away for an instant. His eyes wander down to the sleepy face on his chest and he caresses Dani’s cheek tenderly, losing himself in that look full of affection coming from those dark eyes that mean so much to him and it makes something fall in place inside his head.

”You know what? I’ll do it! Now!” He says, grabbing his phone with a sudden bolt of energy shooting through his body.

”Do what?” Comes the drowsy voice from in between the sheets and pillows and Jorge just grins and takes a picture.

”Jorge, don’t!” Dani’s arm reaches up, trying to snake the phone from him and Dani’s eyes look shocked, but the Majorcan just grins and keeps typing into his phone, holding it just out of Dani’s reach and sighing contently when he finally presses the send button.

”Too late!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song by KISS ('duh ;) )


	27. Désenchanté(es)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Ne Year ♥  
> Things in italics is are flashbacks.
> 
> I will be back in about a week!

_Si je dois tomber de haut_  
 _Que ma chute soit lente_

Valencia, scenes from Monday morning and, _in italics_ , flashbacks from the night before

Tito stumbles back from the bathroom, running his hands through his hair. Last night should never have happened in a way and he vows to stay away from Rins and tequila for the rest of his life. In another way though, last night had been quite a lecture. He’s surprised he even remembers, but somehow life doesn’t have the mercy to let him forget anything from the chain of events that led him here. With a sigh, he steps into the bedroom and sees Uccio look at him with eyes that show nothing but panic, basically the face of a deer in headlights. Tito would chuckle if the circumstances were different. Now, he just smiles sadly.

”Don’t worry, nothing happened.”

He watches Uccio relax slightly as the older man starts processing the words and probably he realizes that they’re both still more or less dressed. Maybe he starts remembering as well. Tito shrugs helplessly and moves towards the minibar.

”Water?” He holds the bottle up and sees that Uccio is scrutinizing him with a rather serious expression. He would have expected nothing but relief and a hasty escape from the other, yet the older man just stays where he is and looks at him so thoroughly, that Tito shudders under the stare.

”Yeah, water will be good.” Uccio nods slowly. “And thank you.”

”Hm? It’s just water.” Tito shrugs again.

”Not just that. For not taking advantage.” He sees Uccio blush and look away and Tito cannot help but cringe and feel nauseous again. “And for telling me. Just… thank you.”

Tito takes a deep breath, memories making him squirm uncomfortably and he looks at Uccio’s devastated face, feeling the wave of guilt wash over him.

”You’ve got nothing to thank me for, man.” He shakes his head and bites down on his bottom lip, wishing the ground would swallow him. “Nothing, believe me.”

*

_”Tito, seriously, no. We’re not doing that. I have a family.”_

_Tito backs away, realizing, even under the haze of what feels like a gallon of tequila, what he was about to do, trying to seduce a married man and his face burns up as if someone set it on fire. He stares at the ground for a bit and then feels Uccio drag him to his hotel room’s balcony, wordlessly handing him a cigarette._

_”So, why are you doing this? I mean, really, Tito… chatting me up seems a bit… desperate.”_

_And it pours out of him, all the jealousy, all the pain, all the anger over having to fight while everybody else seems to be so incredibly gifted and he knows he isn’t being fair, not to the Marquez’ family, not to Uccio, not to his own team, but it seems that it needs to get out, that after years and years of smiling through it, it just needs to be out on the table. He’s half ranting, half crying, at times yelling through it, Uccio always listening attentive and quiet, occasionally patting his arm or handing him a new cigarette. And then Tito runs out of things to say and his last sentence is the one he probably should have kept inside. “And then there’s Alex.”_

_For an instant, Uccio looks at him, profoundly confused, before he seems to understand._

_”Wait, are you saying… you and Alex?”_

_Tito shakes his head, bites his lower lips, suddenly knows he should have kept his mouth shut about this._

_”But you want Alex?”_

_He could lie. Or run away. Well, no, it’s his room, so rather not. But he could do something to pretend it’s okay, like he always does. Only that tonight, with Uccio, the apparently most understanding guy he’s ever met around the paddock, Tito all over sudden feels a heavy blanket of tiredness on him._

_”Yes,” he presses out and it’s only a whisper._

_He has his head buried in his hands and arms, but he hears the soft and empathetic little “Oh” Uccio releases, before two arms pull him into a hug and he collapses against someone who before this night was almost a stranger, he breaks down into a sobbing mess and he should probably hope that Uccio won’t remember a word of this tomorrow._

*

She looks up at him, into the most beautiful, loving eyes ever and blinks, slightly tired but with less of a hangover than she would have expected. 

“Good morning,” she says softly, trying to smile with confidence, because he looks scared enough for the both of them. 

”Not a good morning.” He growls and his gaze drops, making her heart feel like it’s dropping to her stomach.

Of course he’s right. And they’ve probably done something really stupid. Also, it’s been all but her plan to end up here, staring into these eyes and feeling so helpless, so responsible for his pain. Theory had been to wake up, giggle, kiss and say goodbye. Now, she wants to hug him and tell him to relax, wants to hold him until he feels better, wants him to tell her things will be okay. Because truth to be told, he’s not just hot and sexy and desirable, he’s also been kind, gentle and lovely and in retrospect, it feels like she’s corrupted him into something he’d rather not done. He’s probably way more the type for relationships than for quick and dirty. But even if she was interested in commitment, which she clearly isn’t, not even with a world champion involved, they don’t stand a chance. Simply, there’s no way she is showing herself to the press as the slut who left Marc Marquez for his younger brother. Which more than certainly is what she’d end up as in the headlines after they’ve made a fair bit of effort last night to seem like a couple during the gala, Marc even kissing her, full force, in front of the paparazzi. With a finger, she holds up his chin, then presses a peck to his lips and with her free hand, caresses his cheek.

”I’m sorry, Alex, really sorry.”

_”So, you organized all of this for Marc and Vale? Why?” She stares at him, wondering just why he cares so much. And how, in the middle of a close title fight, he’d ever find the time or calm to put up with it._

_”Mhm. He looked horrible. Actually, they looked horrible. And you know, it just wasn’t fair. It’s taken them years to see that they were in love and then some stupid photographer was about to ruin everything without even thinking twice. You know, it just seemed so wrong. He’s been chased, they’ve both been, all their lives, they never even stood a chance to have a so-called normal relationship, could never establish anything and then they find each other and someone, for the sake of a few bucks, is willing to take it away from them in a heartbeat?”_

_He stops, out of breath, staring at her with anger still written over his face and, besides making her more than fully understand, his words have her melting into a puddle of awe._

_”Wow. Just wow. And sorry, I should have seen most of that myself, I guess.” She buries her nose in her neck and feels him wrap her closely, his body still trembling a bit from all the emotion._

_”I’m just glad you understand.”_

She understood, still understands, especially that it’s just as bad for him and she cannot even put into words how horrible she feels about possibly just making things a hundred times worse for him.

*

Linda wakes up from the sound of running water in the bathroom and it takes her a moment to catch up with last night’s events. A smile crosses her face, resembling the expression of a cat that got the cream, before images start playing in her head and her brows furrow. Sure, she’d agreed to the whole plot only a little because she wanted to help Vale and mostly because of just this. And she got what she asked for, didn’t she? The replay of a night or rather a kiss she’d never forgotten. A kiss, that, at the time, had been full of guilt. And yet, it had felt good enough to haunt her for years. And now that she’s finally gotten her conclusion, has gone all the way and gotten all the attention and affection she had craved, she should feel some sort of closure, should be happy, satisfied, relaxed. Instead, she feels kind of numb. Like some deep sadness is covering everything, without that she is aware of any tangible reason for her unhappiness.

_”So,” Nicky slides down the wall and comes to sit next to her on the balcony. Her arms wraps him in the duvet and pulls him close, her body melting against his and his head dropping to her shoulder. “You came here to help out Vale and the little demon?”_

_”Maybe,” she says softly, her eyes on the cigarette she is trying to light, avoiding his gaze. She wanted to say it in a flirty, sassy way – but she’s pretty sure it came out just as weak as she’s feeling right now._

_”You’re still friends?” She isn’t even sure why he cares so much but she gladly accepts when his hand takes the cigarette from her, lighting it effortlessly and returning it after taking a drag. She stares at his lips with fascination, remembering too well what amazing things he could do with them and she lets out an involuntary sigh._

_”I guess. We kind of care about each other.” She shrugs, staring into the cloudy sky, feeling the occasional drizzle reach her face and his hair is tickling her ear when he moves his head and then he laces their fingers, squeezing her hand._

_”So you helped out Vale. And then you wanted Uccio to send me out to you, did you?”_

_She did. Hell yeah, she did. And the scary thing is, she didn’t even think about any consequences, she didn’t even ask whether Nicky was single and she wouldn’t have cared when she asked Uccio to arrange this. Well, she might have told herself she was only going for a kiss. But deep down, this is exactly what she wanted. Be fucked by Nicky Hayden: Check._

_”Yeah, I did. You mind?”_

_”Hm. Not really. I had fun.” He shrugs and out of nowhere hands her a bottle of whiskey. She wouldn’t normally drink it, but tonight, it doesn’t seem to matter at all._

_”Good,” she replies after a pause where she’s swallowing the burning liquid, trying not to choke. “I did, too.”_

_There’s another pause, a long one, where neither of them says a word, both lost in thoughts, starting to shiver in the cool air._

_”Don’t you sometimes wish it had been different then?” The words burn like a torch and she almost chokes from hearing them. She ends up desperately taking the bottle from him again for a big swig. He has no idea how much she wished that, then and now. And if he would feel the same…_

He comes back from the bathroom, stopping in the doorframe when he notices that she’s awake and she cannot help but stare when he leans against it, fully naked, smiling shyly yet posing like a model, with his ruffled head casually leaning on a tanned forearm, impeccable torso glowing golden in the morning light. 

”Morning,” his voice is hoarse and his eyes seem nervous, questioning, almost as if he didn’t know what to do or say and it scares her, because he should be the one who has a clue, after all, “sleep well?”

*

”Okay. You know what?” Marc props himself up from the floor and stares into Vale’s now half-confused, half-curious eyes. “We have to get out of here. Into my motorhome. Or yours. Whatever. And then we will fuck.”

”Wait,” Vale sits up now as well, hands rubbing his face and just stares back with wide eyes, “What?”

”Before I put any more effort into this and embarrass myself even further by confessing things to you that I don’t even want to confess to myself, I want to know if we can do it. You’re right to ask, you know? Will we ever be ready for that? Because if not, that would be an issue, right?” And Marc knows how crazy it must sound. It doesn’t just sound crazy. It is. But at the same time, he’s rarely been so sure about having to do something in his life. As if every cell in his body demands to know, to find out, to learn. Now.

”Are you still drunk? Or kidding me?” Vale blinks, still looking rather shell-shocked.

”I’m dead serious. And now, let’s go.” He stands up and holds a hand up to the Italian, who takes it hesitantly.

”So who are you going to call to let us out?”

”Not calling anyone. We’re kicking it open.”

And they do, surprisingly quick and without hurting anyone but the wooden door. They’re lucky enough that the cleaning staff hasn’t yet arrived and they make it back to the paddock in the first rays of morning sun without raising too much attention. On the way, they don’t speak a single word and both try to keep their gazes as low as possible, avoiding any touches. To say the atmosphere was tense would still be underestimating the situation and Marc is painfully aware that so far, Vale has not agreed to his plan. Actually, Vale hasn’t said anything about it.

_”So?”_

_”So?”_

_”You’re still here.”_

_”They locked the door.”_

_”You have a phone, you could have called helped. And actually, you’re strong enough to just break it.”_

_”So are you. And your phone’s here, too. So?”_

_”We’re both still here.”_

_”It means something, doesn’t it?”_

_”I guess. I mean, we kissed, too. Again.”_

_”We did.”_

_Marc pauses a bit before he continues the conversation, his heart beating nervously now. ”Are we taking it further?”_

_”As in will we ever fuck?” Vale raises his eyebrows._

_Marc sighs and shakes his head. ”As in will we ever get anywhere? Will we have a future together?”_

_”Have you ever thought that far ahead with a girl? Like, right after your first few dates?”_

_”N-not really.” Marc shakes his head. “You?”_

_”No. But then why does it matter so much for us?” Vale sighs and looks at him, slightly exasperated._

_”Because I love you.” Marc freezes on the spot and stares at Vale, gaping slightly but not caring about the probably dumbfounded look on his face at all. Did he really just say that loud?_

They’re sitting on Marc’s bed eventually and Vale is fidgeting with his lighter. Marc watches the movement of the slim fingers, fascinated and somehow far away, his mind dizzy from all the thoughts. His throat is too dry to talk and then he wouldn’t know what to say in the first place.

”Marc,” Vale coughs and Marc jerks his head around, meeting the most insecure gaze the Italian hero has ever allowed him to see, “I just- okay, I’m not good at this. Feelings and stuff. But-“ Vale coughs again, lowers his gaze, looks back up, squirms, but silences Marc with a finger when the Spaniard wants to say something, “Marc, I love you, too. No matter how this turns out and whether it works or not, I love you. You understand?”

Marc nods, biting his lower lip and then feeling two hands in his neck, pulling him into a kiss. In his chest, his heart is hammering now. _We’re really going to do this. Fuck. We’re really going to do this._

Their kiss is every bit passionate in the beginning and it doesn’t fail to make him aroused, neither does it fail to have the same effect on Vale and they’re most definitely grinding their crotches against each other for more friction. And that’s already way more than Marc ever wanted to share with another man, but they have to keep going now, right? He’s determined to find out, once and for all, because it seems pretty certain to him that it must be figured out. And the Marquez-approach is always a direct attempt. No fear. Except, he couldn’t deny that they’re starting to drag the kiss, infinitely, apparently neither wanting to really go there. Anyway, he doesn’t even know which way around they’ll do this. Maybe talking beforehand would have been worth a shot, but now, their half-hard cocks greedily rubbing against each other and their foreheads covered in sweat, it’s not the time to start a discussion. He should just let instincts take over, which worked okay’ish for his first time with a girl. On the other hand, in all honesty, that has happened with a rather random girl and not Valentino Rossi, who not only he apparently fell in love with but who probably also had two decades worth of sexual experiences more than he did.

”Off?” He breaks away from Vale, both of them staring at each other, completely disheveled, and Marc’s fingers are toying with the hem of Vale’s shirt.

The Italian nods and Marc opens the buttons, but ends up stopping halfway, because his nerves are totally failing him right now and he ends up sitting back on the mattress, head buried in his hands and cheeks burning with shame. _So that didn’t work at all. If I can’t even get this done, how is this ever going to work?_ Marc is about to get lost in a spiral of panicked thoughts when he feels two arms wrap around his waist from behind, Vale’s chest pressing against his back and Vale’s fingers slowly opening his shirt now, fingertips softly brushing over his stomach. _Of course you would be able to do this._

”You don’t need to hurry.” Vale’s head is nuzzling in his neck and the little hot puffs of air and the words’ vibrations on his skin are making Marc shiver helplessly. “Or worry. We can learn this together.” And it actually sounds a tiny bit as if even Valentino Rossi has to convince himself that they can do it.

*

He wakes up because Dani stirs next to him and his first thoughts are just how incredibly happy he is to have him back and he snuggles closer, pulling the small rider into a tight hug, his head buried in the crook of his neck, drinking in his scent and loving the feeling of Dani’s chest heaving regularly under his arm. Everything is floating and happy – until he finds that Dani feels slightly rigid in his hold and then, it hits him like lightning and he sits up straight, staring at the older man’s face who is looking back with a concerned expression, confirming the memory that just resurfaced in Jorge’s head is all too real.

”I did it.” It’s half a question, half a statement and Dani nods before he sits up and Jorge feels himself pulled into a hug, glad to just be held, his mind still shaky, dizzy, blurred.

”Are you okay?” Dani has waited a moment before asking and when he does, his voice sounds wary, dreadful even. 

Still, Jorge doesn’t know what to explain. Somehow, he doesn’t feel anything about it right now. Maybe his mind has stopped working from shock, because at this moment, everything is just numb. So he shrugs against Dani and in response, feels Dani’s finger trace a line down his spine, then rubbing little circles on the small of his back and it’s too easy to just stop thinking completely and let himself melt into the touch, surrender to the comfort.

_”I can’t believe you just send that.” Dani mumbles into the pillows and Jorge lets himself fall down to the bed, phone dropping to the floor, arms reaching to squeeze the smaller rider tightly._

_”But I did. You happy?”_

_”Depends.” Comes the muffled slur from between the cushions._

_Dani props himself up in Jorge’s hold, turning his face to let their eyes meet and Jorge sees the scrutinizing, the question marks all over the older man’s face._

_”Depends on what?” He inquires, lacing their fingers and while he waits for Dani’s reply, he feels as if his heart is hammering a way out of his chest._

_”On how much you freak out about this when you wake up.”_

Jorge bites his bottom lip and wishes he wasn’t freaking out at all. Truth to be told though, he has never felt so much panic in his life.

_Pourtant, je voudrais retrouver l’innocence_  
 _Mais rien n’a de sens, et rien ne va_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kate Ryan


	28. What have I done?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back at last ♥
> 
> Not proofread yet but going up anyway, before I collapse after a roadtrip from hell ;) 
> 
> I missed you loads ♥

_You are my everything_  
 _My head, my heart, my mind, my wing_  
 _The past, the present, tomorrow too,_  
 _I’ll spend my final day with you_

”Checked your phone yet?” Jorge’s hand runs through Dani’s hair, encouraging him to answer.

”Mhm.”

”Response?”

”Plenty.”

”Do I want to know?” 

”No. I don’t think so.” Dani pulls Jorge closer, rolling on his back, holding Jorge on top of him. Their eyes lock and Jorge bites down hard on his bottom lip, seeing the hopelessness in Dani’s eyes. _God, what have I done?_ He wants to make it better, wants the tiny smile back that Dani always wears when they’re alone, the little crinkle around his mouth that Jorge loves so much, that he fell for what seems ages ago by now. He leans down, his lips searching Dani’s, pressing closer, tentatively, until he feels hands in his neck, holding tightly, urging him forward and he deepens the kiss, parts his lips, tongues and teeth clashing. Kissing as if there’s no tomorrow, that’s what this is about for him, taking all the time in the world, rediscovering Dani, mapping him, trying to burn everything into his memory so it will last a lifetime. Because actually, there might not even be a tomorrow this time.

It seems that Dani feels the same way, responding with urgency and despair, his hands clawing to Jorge’s neck painfully and as if he was holding on to dear life right there. _Oh my God. I can’t believe I broke this._ With something between a sigh, a wince and a sob, Jorge grinds his hips down against Dani’s crotch, rutting against the smaller man like they haven’t done since the beginning of their relationship, reveling in the myriad of moans he hears, breathed into their kiss.

*

”Are you really, really sure about this?” He’s sitting with his back against Vale’s chest, feeling Vale’s words vibrate through his body and he nods, ever so slowly, his nails digging into Vale’s thighs.

”Okay… and you don’t think we should talk about it first?”

 _Hell no. That’ll make things even more difficult._ Marc shakes his head violently. “No, please. Just fuck me.”

”You want me to fuck you?” Vale’s question reminds Marc that they could actually do it both ways and he feels himself blush even more at the sudden realization. And yeah, probably they should talk. But talking about this with Dani had been awkward enough and right now, in this very moment, Marc wants everything but talk. And yes, he is nervous as hell, _almost_ scared – because a Marquez doesn’t admit fear – but at the same time, he cannot deny that he feels a tingling excitement that itches under his skin, a genuine, arousing curiosity to experience this and for once, the thought of having _real_ sex with another man is not only frightening him but also making him rock hard.

”Yes. I want to know if I can take it.” He tries to hide all the emotions from his voice and he desperately wants to avoid to admit to himself what all of this means about his feelings for Vale, what they reveal about just how much he really loves that man.

”Marc, really, I don’t want to do something you’re not comfortable with. I don’t want our sex to be something ‘you can take’. I want it to be something you enjoy.”

”But that’s-“ Marc lets out a desperate sigh and turns around, straddling Vale again now, naked chest against Vale’s still half-buttoned shirt. He can feel Vale’s heartbeat against his skin and tries to pierce the Italian’s eyes, hopes he will be able to convey his idea, his need, “I have to find out, you understand?” His hands are clutching to Vale’s neck and his heart is thundering while he watches Vale’s expression flicker between lust, confusion and nervousness. Ultimately though, lust seems to win when Vale licks his lips and gives him a small, almost invisible nod, relief running through Marc’s veins. 

”Okay… but under one condition.”

Marc raises his eyebrows, stares into the Italian’s eyes whose pupils are slightly dilated already.

”You promise me that you will tell me to stop as soon as it hurts. Please. No martyrdom. Not in the bedroom."

*

Dani’s legs wrap around Jorge’s waist and pull him in, always closer, closer, closer and when Jorge tries to reach for the bedside drawer, he takes firm hold of his wrist and shakes his head.

”We won’t need anything.”

He sees the flash of lust on Jorge’s face and it makes his cock twitch excitedly, but then he sees Jorge bite his lip.

”Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you.”

Dani stares into Jorge’s face, marvels the swollen, saliva-coated lips and the flushed cheeks, still surprised he can make the Majorcan look like that, so ruffled and out of control and he nods determinedly.

”Absolutely sure,” he whispers, his legs urging Jorge even closer as a sign of confirmation.

The second Jorge processes the words, Dani sees his eyes cloud and hears a low groan and then he watches with fascination when the Majorcan brings his hand up to his mouth and licks his fingers, sight hot enough for Dani to come there and then and he struggles to hold back. Next thing he knows, Jorge’s lips crash down violently on his own again, taste of blood in their mouths and Dani is so aroused, so greedy, he cannot help pushing back against the careful finger that’s trying to invade him slowly and that he’s forcing inside quicker now. It’s not long before he feels more fingers added and he wails when Jorge curls his fingers, hitting his prostate with a practiced move, making Dani’s hips jerk up frantically, begging for more. He’s clinging to Jorge’s neck, still, holding the other tight and not wanting to let go at any cost. _We might not have a future anymore, but we have this morning and we will use it._ Dani is determined not to waste a single second, to let the memories burn themselves deeply enough to last for a while, or forever. That’s why he doesn’t want lube, doesn’t want condoms. He needs this pure, raw and yeah, painful. Because it should hurt, today it really should.

When Jorge, after teasing him to the point where Dani is only a panting, helpless mess, replaces his fingers with his cock, the smaller rider grits his teeth, nails certainly drawing blood from Jorge’s neck now, though he doesn’t hear the other complain, only moan lowly. It burns deliciously and Dani revels in the feeling of being claimed, owned, slowly and carefully, because Jorge has an amazing capability of self-restraint, holding himself on shaky arms, trying to give Dani all the time to adjust that he needs. And Dani loves Jorge for doing this for him, loves him even more than he does anyway and he squeezes his eyes shot, feeling tears rise up, not from pain but from emotion and affection.

”You okay?” There’s almost panic in Jorge’s voice when he pulls his head back now, thumb stroking over Dani’s cheek to wipe away the stray tear that escaped his eyelids and Dani keeps his eyes shut, nodding frantically, hands pulling Jorge’s mouth back on his and legs urging Jorge to move deeper. They’ve had sex, countless times, dirty and not so dirty, fast and slow, romantic and filthy over this past year, but it has never felt so much like making love before and Dani moans into their kiss when he feels that Jorge is buried completely, keeping still inside him for an almost eternal moment where they break their kiss for the benefit of locking gazes for a bit and Dani almost cries again, overwhelmed to see Jorge look at him with so much need, so much vulnerability. After a while, their panting filling the room and their bodies shuddering against each other’s, they resume the kiss and Jorge starts moving, thrusting tentatively. Dani meets his trusts, again guides him with his legs, urging him deeper, faster until they’ve found a perfect rhythm, that has both of them groan into their kiss that’s growing more and more desperate and violent. They last long this morning, both of them, because they want to, Dani thinks, because they’re both aware that this might be a goodbye, at least a temporary one, after all the fallout they’ve created. He didn’t have the heart to tell Jorge yet, but he knows once this is over, which it will be inevitably, Jorge will see the consequences, the answers to their picture, himself and it’s a thought that frightens Dani more than anything ever has before. 

And he’s normally not the type to be so emotional, but today, he comes with tears in his eyes, feeling Jorge follow him over the edge, indulging in the feeling of being so full, so filled by the younger man and when Jorge finally collapses on top of him, their lips breaking apart because they both need air, neither of them shows any intention to let go, Dani’s hands still clinging to Jorge’s neck and Jorge’s now running through Dani’s hair absentmindedly. They simultaneously decide to ignore the rest of the world just for this little bit longer, stealing their last moment of peace. Dani feels Jorge’s hot breath next to his ear, tingling his skin.

”I love you so much. Never forget that, okay?”

_I won’t… I promise._

*

Vale knows this would be easier if Marc was on his stomach, it’s one of the things he’s learned with women already, but he’s afraid that once he doesn’t see the young man’s face, he’ll lie and not let him know once it hurts. The pain will be much harder to hide once he can see the expression on his younger… well… lover’s? Boyfriend’s? face. And that question is one of the things he feels they should have addressed before this and he hates himself for giving in to Marc’s request, because he knows it’s a stupid plan, one that might backfire mightily. And damned, he is the older one. Theoretically, old enough to be Marc’s father. So he should be the responsible one and he’s definitely not behaving like that at all right now, his hands sliding up and down over Marc’s now naked body that’s splayed out in front of him, for him, the toned muscles twitching under his touch. _And a few weeks ago a panicked at the thought of kissing you… what have you done to me?_

In the beginning, sitting there between Marc’s legs, discovering Marc’s torso with hands and tongue, he isn’t even sure if he can get it up at all, the pressure seemingly unbearable, stakes insurmountably high. But then, Marc is so hot – and really, when did guys become so attractive to him? – So unbelievably, scorching hot, writhing under him, panting, eyes no longer nervous, not one bit. Once again, as dictated by the Marquez’ genes as Vale assumes, Marc surprises him by showing no hesitation, going all the way, even if it means to shove your head straight through the wall. However the young man manages to do it, it looks breathtaking and against his fears, Vale is hard in no time, struggling to hold himself back, while his fingers run over Marc’s cock, trying to anticipate what the other might like, trying to figure out what the other might enjoy. Because aside from all the other issues, and even so he’ll readily admit that Marc is taking the bigger leap here, it’s not like Vale has ever done _this_ with a guy before and even with Jorge’s explanations and affirmations that in the end, it wouldn’t be much different than with a woman, Vale is not so sure about it. And he is terrified by it. But that’s an emotion Valentino Rossi wouldn’t even admit to himself of even having in his repertoire. With a sigh and completely mesmerized by the way Marc’s chest is heaving irregularly, he rummages for lube, coats his fingers with more haste than necessary and, keeping his eyes now locked with Marc’s to make sure he sees when he starts hurting the boy, circles Marc’s hole. As he would have predicted, the other goes rigid in no time and Vale tries stroking his cock, doing the things he would enjoy himself to the other man in the hope it would relax him and please him, which, judging by the irresistibly hot moans from Marc’s mouth, it does.

It’s a slow process, painfully slow, his finger moving by millimeters, his eyes glued to Marc’s face and maybe he is too old for this in the first place, because his crotch hasn’t ached this hard ever before, feeling like it is about to burst. For Marc, this is clearly not enjoyable, that much is easy to tell by the concentrated look on his face and the way his fingers are clenching in the sheets, knuckles gone all white. It takes him countless breaks, caresses and rubbing of Marc’s cock to work his first finger inside and adding a second isn’t any easier. He interrupts several times, asking Marc if he’s really still sure about this, always receiving the same strained and breathless yes from behind gritted teeth and no, Vale thinks to himself, no, this is nothing like the sex he’s had so far. This is work and he is pretty sure that Marc is the first person in his life he’s ever been ready to invest so much for. After all, his own arousal has grown to a state of sheer despair, his cock throbbing painfully and he’s just as covered in sweat from concentration, focus and holding back as Marc. Biting his lip hard enough to draw blood, he tries to remember what Jorge told him about this and the few decisive differences to sex with a woman and tries curling his fingers. At first, he thinks it’s pretty useless, but then he must have done something good, judging by the loud expletives coming from Marc’s mouth and the bucking of his hips. Vale eyes his face, sees him gasp for air and decides to try again, with an even better result this time. _Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea after all?_

He keeps up the moves for a bit, thrusting into Marc with his fingers, his eyes full of wonder while he looks at the squirming, panting and swearing man who is actually moving his hips to meet his pushes now and it’s simply amazing, but at the same time it’s also making Vale even more aroused and unless he wants to stop here and now, which he certainly doesn’t and doesn’t think Marc wants either, he has to get ahead with things.

Marc winces when he withdraws his fingers and his eyes flutter open.

”Sorry… are you ready?”

”Mhm. Please, Vale.”

Marc Marquez, panting and writhing beneath him, begging for his cock – Vale has to take a few deep breaths to avoid coming just from the thought. Then, still desperate but confident he can manage to do it without coming at the first touch, he crawls up Marc’s body, Marc’s legs on his shoulders, meeting Marc’s lips, Marc’s cock now trapped between their stomachs. His arms are shaky and his knees are weak when he lines himself up, his head against Marc’s entrance, the feeling alone making him shudder and he tries to pull himself together, to bring up the focus to actually look at Marc’s gorgeous, flushed face through this, pushing in the first bit and moaning helplessly over the tight hotness around him. Marc doesn’t look like he’s in a fair bit of pain though but when Vale wants to pull his head away to ask him about it, the younger rider’s hands clench in his hair, roughly, painfully and hold his head in place.

”Keep. Going.” Marc growls the words into their kiss and Vale is relieved, because he wouldn’t have been sure whether he could have stopped now anyway. With as much self-control as he can still bring up, he moves, trying to leave Marc about enough time to adjust, frowning over the sounds of concentrated breathing, the suppressed wincing. Then however, he’s fully inside and it feels good, so good, better than with any woman. And he knows that cannot be an anatomic reason, it’s because this isn’t any woman… this is Marc, a man that as far as he can tell, Vale has more feelings for than he’s ever had for anyone and that’s another one of those thoughts that terrify him – which, of course, he won’t admit. He starts moving inside of Marc too quickly and too rough, he thinks later, hearing an expletive and a badly suppressed wince released into their kiss, but Vale cannot hold back any better and luckily, after a few attempts, manages to hit that magic spot again that makes Marc’s hips buck up, meeting his thrusts, wincing turning into moaning like a switch being flicked. Feeling a wave of complete exhaustion approach him after a night filled with too much emotion and morning with too much nervousness, he knows he won’t last any longer. Remembering the hint Jorge gave him, he reaches between their bodies, wrapping his fingers around Marc’s cock, amazed how natural it feels today after being horrifying a few weeks ago, reveling in the low groan it draws from Marc.

For an instant, he’s completely blown away when he feels hot liquid run over his hand, his mind needing a moment to catch up, to understand what happened, to realize that not only did he not break Marc in any way, but he made him come. The next second, Marc’s muscles contract around him so violently, that he follows him over the edge with a cry that may or may not have been the younger man’s name, his vision completely blurred and his only thought being _Thank you_. Whether he’s thanking Marc for doing this for him or thanking fate, God or whoever else is responsible for sending him Marc, he doesn’t know and it doesn’t matter much when he’s lying here, drained, spent, not a single spark of energy left, but feeling at peace the world in the most beautiful afterglow, because he’s resting on Marc’s chest and Marc’s heartbeat vibrates through his body, Marc’s breath burns against the skin of his cheeks and if he’d die right here, he would be leaving the world in the best possible way. _And I know this will be trouble and you’ll be right about it blowing up in our faces, but I love you. So I’ll pray you’re right about us dealing with it as well._

_I hope you feel the way I do_  
 _I hope you give yourself up too_  
 _I’m damned to feel the way I do_  
 _What have I done to fall so hard_  
 _For you_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beautiful song by the wonderful Anna von Ternheim.


	29. Don't be surprised if I love you...

_...for all that you are_

Vale stays on top of Marc for a felt eternity, not even thinking about the possibility that he might be crushing him, their eyes are locked in a mix of complete awe and disbelief about what just happened and the only sound in the room is their heavy breathing. _God, you are incredible._ Vale is about to lose himself in two puddles of mocha when Marc’s hand reaches up, running through his hair, the light touch sending a trickle of little electric bolts down the Italian’s spine.

”You are beautiful.”

Out of all the things Marc could have said… Vale holds his lower lip between his teeth and blinks against the tears, sound of Marc’s tired and hoarse but also deeply affectionate voice still ringing in his ears. After a moment, he swallows against the lump in his throat and waits for his voice to settle enough until he trusts it not to fail him.

”So are you.” He traces Marc’s jaw with a fingertip and feels his lover shudder underneath him. “Are you… are you okay?”

He can hardly look at Marc while he waits for the reply and drags his gaze to the pillow, startled about the soft chuckle he hears.

”There’s sticky mess between us that I am quite sure I’m to blame for… what do you think?”

Vale doesn’t suppress a laugh at that before bending down to press a chaste kiss to Marc’s mouth. 

”So it was okay?” He knows he shouldn’t, he knows it’s a bad cliché, but he cannot help asking because he needs the reassurance right now, needs to hear it from Marc.

”It was amazing, not okay.” Marc grins up at him, hands in his neck and then suddenly sits up, holding him in his lap, making Vale realize how much stronger the smaller man really is. “And now, shower… there’s a bike waiting to be tested and I’m not doing that covered in my own mess.”

He gets up quickly, with the Marquez-enthusiasm that Vale loves so much and then the Italian feels his wrist grabbed and is simply pulled along. _Well, I guess I’m lucky you haven’t tried to wake me with a horn yet…_

*

”Ready?” Dani is sitting with his back against the headboard, looking at Jorge who is on his side, head propped up on an elbow and looking straight into his eyes while nodding slowly.

”As ready as I can be.”

”Okay.” With a deep frown, the smaller rider picks up his phone, scrolls around a bit and hands it to his boyfriend. He watches Jorge read and Dani’s hands clench into the sheets, knuckles going white in no time, while he watches the expression of horror on the Majorcan’s face, the way his jaw clenches, his brows furrow and his eyes start glaring daggers.

”I’m so sorry, Dani.” He hears the whisper and it breaks his heart.

”Don’t, please don’t. I wanted us to go public, you did it for me. If anyone, I should be sorry.” Dani gulps, thinks about and then shakes his head furiously. “No, actually, you shouldn’t be and I shouldn’t either. Only those assholes who can’t accept what we have. They are the ones who should feel ashamed.” And he has to focus hard to keep his voice from trembling, but this really needed to be said. Because the rest of the world just has no right to do this to the man he loves. 

*

Marc rests with his back against the cool tiles, forehead against Valentino’s, endless stream of hot water washing over them, rivulets running over their chests. He won’t say that it didn’t hurt, but it also felt so much better than any sex he’s had so far, a thought that is just as surprising as it is scary. _I’m in love. With a man. And we fucked. And I liked it. A lot._ In the back of his head, the question rises whether this makes him gay and he knows Alex would be furious and call his concerns ridiculous, tell him that there’s no such thing as straight and bi and gay, but the rational arguments somehow aren’t helping at all right now, when his head is spinning and he’s feeling dizzy with all the emotions that are running through him. And then, he blinks his eyes open and meets Vale’s eyes - and that is that.

”I love you,” Vale whispers the words against his skin, nuzzling in his neck, sending shivers down Marc’s spine. It’s incredible and impossible, but it’s really happening.

”I love you, too.” And although Marc cannot grasp it, cannot understand how it happened, or predict what it might mean for him, for them, their careers, their plans, he knows, with a security he hasn’t felt before, that it’s the most sincere emotion he’s ever felt for someone outside his family. And they kiss again, languidly, as if they had all the time in the world, water still washing over them in warm waves. _Yes. I love you. I can’t believe I do, but apparently, it happened._ And now that that’s established, Marc realizes that Vale said he loved him, too and when it finally sinks in, he’s flooded with amazement once again. After all, it’s hard to believe that his childhood hero fell for him of all people.

*

Dani keeps watching Jorge, who has gotten up from the bed, hands running through his hair helplessly and then threw his phone against the wall. Dani’s phone. But that’s not a big problem now, compared to the other things that happened and Dani just shrugs when Jorge gasps and apology. The Majorcan spends some time pacing up and down in the room and Dani wishes he could do something, say something, change something.

*

”Dani… they’ll take your seat away if you don’t deny us.” Jorge stops in his steps, staring at the smaller rider who is astonishingly calm considering he’d read the same articles and e-mails Jorge just read. He’s pale and maybe looks a bit smaller even than normal, but he looks strangely calm, as if he’s really ready to face this. _And dammit, you’re facing this for me. For us. Wow._

”I don’t think that’s final.” He hears him whisper now and Jorge can’t see where he takes the courage from, where he finds the reserves to go through this with a smile around his lips. Jorge himself feels so full of anger and frustration that he thinks he might just burst every minute and if it wasn’t all bad enough as it is, he would seriously damage the room. Knowing that it’s not an option that will help them in any way, he drops back on the bed, feeling helpless and desperate.

”It will be fine,” a soft voice whispers into his ear and then Dani’s arms wrap around him, hold him ever so close, allowing him to feel the other’s breath on his skin, his heartbeat vibrating against him and while he’s sobbing apologies into Dani’s shoulder, he feels the smaller but so much stronger rider tighten his grip, keeping Jorge from flinching away.

”I love you and I won’t leave you, okay? We’ll face it. And Honda will not blackmail me away from you. Not ever.”

_Your love is thick and it swallowed me whole_   
_You're so much braver than I gave you credit for_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From Head over Feet, Alanis Morissette


	30. La Ultima Noche

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for everything, every 'hit', kudo, comment, it's all so much appreciated and treasured ♥

_Ay de mí, es la última noche_  
 _que voy a sufrir por este amor._

They manage a somewhat quick shower, finally realizing that showing up late, together, won’t benefit their latest agreement at all. And at some point, still hastily gathering clothes to wear, Marc remembers that they aren’t the only people in the world.

”You think we should text the others that we got out of that room?”

”They locked us in and forgot about us. So… NAH.” Vale hugs him from behind and takes his phone from him. “But,” Marc feels the taller man’s hot breath against his ear and it’s not helping with getting out of the motorhome quickly at all, “we could check if everything is okay with pics from last night or if it leaked that we were both missing.”

”Okay… but what if something leaked?”

”Then we’ll figure something out.” Vale hands the phone back to him. “Ready to unlock?”

”Ready.” Marc gulps and gets past the lock screen, hearing a tiny amused aww from behind, Vale having seen the picture, a baby photo from him and Alex with their first bikes. And then he sees the flood and it doesn’t mean anything good. His stomach clenches uncomfortably, while he gathers all his courage to start by opening twitter and he can feel Vale’s grip around his waist tightening almost painfully. _So you’re scared, too, aren’t you?_

And then they both wince… only not at what they expected to find. Not at all.

*

Uccio and Tito see the news over an improvised breakfast of coffee and dry toast, brought up to the hotel room, shared in silence. Uccio almost chokes on his bread when he scrolls through the messages on his phone, wordlessly passing it to Tito when the Spaniard raises his eyebrows.

Tito reads, then reads again, looks a second and third time and still doesn’t fully grasp what exactly he’s seeing.

”Think they’ll save it as well as Marc and Vale?” He puts down his cup and returns the phone, not looking at Uccio but straight out of the window. Uccio thinks a moment before he replies and when he does, his answer only confirms what Tito thinks himself.

”I don’t think there’s much to salvage after this.”

Maybe, Tito thinks to himself, not being able to have Alex in the first place isn’t even a bad thing. At least, it protects both of them from ever facing something like _that_.

*

Roser, after successfully fussing over her slightly sick husband, has just about managed to deal with her hair, satisfied smile spreading over her face, when a loud expletive makes her jump, hurrying to check on Julia who was supposed to be taking their suitcases to the car.

”What happened?” She’s almost screaming, because the way he’s standing there, cheeks drained from color, hands holding the phone trembling, it looks like something must have gone really wrong. When he doesn’t reply, just stares at the gadget, shaking his head in disbelief, she tries again, this time properly screaming.

”Julia, please, tell me what’s wrong! Are the boys okay?”

He looks up to her like waking up from a dream, small apologetic smile forming around his lips.

”Don’t worry, our boys are fine.” Roser doesn’t like the sound of “our boys” at all.

*

“Hey, what are you checking on your phone?” He pulls up the fly of his jeans, free arm casually wrapping around her waist and she wants to reply, but no sound comes out. Maybe her brain just lost the ability to form words? “Hey, earth to Linda… what’s going on?”

Seeing she still won’t manage to speak, she just shoves the phone into his hand, same tweet open and while she buries her head in his shirt, sighing over the news and shivering because of Nicky’s scent in her nose, she hears his voice above her head, not very coherent either, only breathing out a low, incredulous “Fuck.”

*

”So, that’s it?” They’re standing next to the bed, finally both fully dressed and mostly restored from last night, having exchanged a slightly awkward, stiff hug.

His hands are still on her shoulders and she looks up to him with a look he cannot really read, shrugging a bit helplessly, before she unceremoniously lets herself slouch down on the bed.

”I don’t know. I guess?”

It doesn’t sound convincing and for the first time through all of their mistake, Alex feels a spark of hope that this could be more, mean more than what it looked it, so he sits down next to her, taking her hand, his thumb rubbing little circles on hers.

”What do you want?” The question and the ensuing heavy silence make his heart throb anxiously and that’s when he realizes that it’s already too late for him to retreat and recover with grace and dignity.

”It’s not about what I want, right?” Her voice sounds broken, which admittedly makes him feel hopeful, but he keeps his eyes on their hands, looking at the tangled long fingers, her skin slightly lighter than his, softer, but both of their hands probably counting as slender, long, graceful. They look nice. Beautiful even. Like something complete.

”If you want to, it can be?” 

”I don’t want to be the bad girl in the press, Alex. Sorry. And I don’t think you’d want to do this to Marc and Vale.”

”Last night worked, we could make it work again.” He knows he’s being defiant and he knows he’s taking things onto thin ice, but he couldn’t care less about it right now.

”You don’t know that though. Have you checked? For all we know, there could already be a shitstorm raging at twitter or facebook, degrading both of us for ruining the golden boy.”

”I’m really sure it’s not.” He wraps an arm around her shoulder, wanting to comfort her and, in an attempt to make her feel better, to calm her nerves, he takes his phone out, holding it for both of them to see. “I don’t think there’ll be anything about the two of us, really. We made sure, it was a private party. There’ll only be gorgeous pictures of you and Marc on that carpet, okay? Let’s check twitter.”

He stays right with everything he said, there are no pictures of them leaving together and she looks more than beautiful together with Marc (making Alex’s heart clench with jealousy for an instant), but then none of that matters as they simultaneously gasp at the screen. Because the picture with the most retweets and fallout is actually one of an obviously half-naked, very ruffled Dani. In a bed. With a caption that says “He’s all mine. And not just for this night.” Posted by no one less than @lorenzo99.

*

Emilio looks at Alberto, who has just sat down for breakfast, looking a good decade older than he did last night, face buried in his hands and eyes glaring at the coffee placed in front of him. He feels he should say something but then it’s not like he hasn’t seen the news and, having thought about his own reaction if it had been one of his riders in that picture, there is nothing to say. For a while, they sit at the table wordlessly, both finishing their coffee, the atmosphere clouded and Emilio’s head is pounding. That night certainly came with a much bigger headache than anticipated. When the tension feels unbearable, he gets up with a cough.

”I- have to get going, Alberto, I hope your week will turn out okay.” Facepalming internally, he walks away, having said the single most stupid thing ever. As if there was going to be any improvement after _that_

*

And what a hell of a week it would be…

_Quiero terminar con toda la esperanza que quedó_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Diego Torres


	31. The game to play...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A brief rundown on the week of trouble ;)   
> Conversations are "normal" font, texts are in italics.  
> The next chapter will be regular writing style again, promise ♥
> 
> Thank you so much for the feedback ♥ So appreciated, always ♥

_... is compromise solution_

**Monday morning, Dani & Alberto**

”So you’re saying that unless I officially claim it was a onetime thing and that we were both drunk and nothing really happened but me falling asleep in his bed, I am fired?”

”Dani, please calm down.”

”You’ve got to be kidding. Seriously. Wouldn’t the media bash them?”

”Well, you’d get the seat for next season but they’d replace you by the end.”

”They’re just looking for a reason to dump me because they think Alex would be better in the first place. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Marquez are behind everything.”

”Dani, you’re being unreasonable, please calm down and let us talk about this in peace. And you like Marc and Alex.”

”No. I liked Marc and Alex. Now I hate them. It’s going to be war. And I’m not resigning or denying or doing anything. If Honda cannot take a gay rider, that is their problem to solve.”

”Dani, please, you have to see that with races like Qatar-“

”We can go to Qatar. We cannot fuck there but we don’t do that before races anyway because afterwards, one of us is usually-“

”DANI! Stop it, I do not need to know that. Are you drunk?”

”Are you homophobic?”

”Dani-“

**Monday, early afternoon, Dani & Marc**

”Hey, um, how are you?”

”How do you think I am after knowing your little brother gets my seat?”

”Dani, that’s not-“

”He’s been ON MY BIKE, MARC! I have eyes, you know?”

”Dani, that’s not even-“

”What? True? Because you changed the number? Fuck, Marc, you sure set this up perfectly.”

”I would never do that. You know that.”

”What I know is that you would do anything for that little brat and now leave me alone.”

**Monday, afternoon, Dani & Jorge**

_Let’s talk about it at least._

_Fuck them. I’m not doing that._

_Let’s talk, okay? We will find a solution._

_You’re just chickening out._

_No, but I want my boyfriend on the grid next year, too._

_Too bad baby Marquez stole his seat already._

_You know this is not Alex’s fault._

_Good for Alex that he has an influential brother._

_I can’t believe you actually think that._

_Since when are you friends?_

**Monday evening, Vale & Jorge**

_Sorry, I think my boyfriend has been a dick to yours._

_Possibly. He has a blue eye._

_How mad is he?_

_I don’t think he’s mad at all. Just disappointed. And he hasn’t told anyone what happened, he said it was an accident with a door handle._

_Is he with you?_

_No, family celebration._

_Without you?_

_Too scared someone would see, so yes._

_You’re not bringing Cervera down together then?_

_Don’t think so. But I will try to stay at their house. Undercover._

_Marc okay with that?_

_Marc doesn’t know. So shhh. Julia’s plan._

_The jajaja must be in the genes._

_Oh yes._

**Tuesday morning, Marc & Vale**

”There has to be something we can do about it though.”

”Marc, they’re both grown up and Dani knows what he’s doing. Well, maybe right now he doesn’t, but he will be okay and Jorge will make sure he fulfills the deal.”

”He won’t do it. Dani won’t.”

”How do you know?”

”Because… he’s Dani. He’s not a coward, not like me.”

”You weren’t a coward, just sensible and way more mature than me.”

”You seriously think that?”

”Yes, I do. And now hurry, you have a bike to test and we cannot raise suspicion. There’s just about enough hell here.”

**Tuesday afternoon, Dani & Alberto**

”No, Alberto. Final word. No.” 

”Dani-“

”Get out.”

**Tuesday evening, Dani & Jorge**

”How do you want to deal with it when you’re not even racing?”

”Don’t care. I won’t leave you.”

”Dani, it will be so complicated. And I don’t want to miss you. And I don’t want you to blame me for the end of your career.”

”I’ll never. And it’s too late anyway, my deadline expired.”

”Oh Dani… but when it expired and they haven’t announced anything, maybe it means that they’re not going through with it?”

”Don’t think so. I think they’ll just make sure Alex signs before they do it. And anyway, why is Yamaha so uninvolved?”

”Serious answer?”

”Please.”

”They’re afraid Vale is gay, too, and they’d lose both of their drivers if they did anything. I think they never bought Marc and Vale’s thing.”

”They’re good!”

”I know, that’s why they signed me – OW! Did you just bite me?”

”Sue me.”

**Wednesday evening, Marc and Alex**

”Rufea on Sunday? You think we’ll be able to sit on a bike?”

”Nah, we’ll fall more than we ride, but that won’t matter, because CAMPEONES. And, if it’s easier to convince you this way, Tito’s coming and he’ll bring _Lola_ along. And then Vale and Nicky are coming along, too.”

”Vale and Nicky?”

”What? Two old Ducati compatriots, trying to rekindle their friendship? And he’s bringing Linda.”

”Why not Jorge and Dani? Scared of the PR?”

”Me? No, not at all. And I asked, but Jorge says Dani needs more cool down time.”

”Cool down? You saved his ass!”

”That’s just why.”

”Dani? I wouldn’t have thought-“

”Alex, as nice and kind as he is, he is still a rider. And a highly talented one. He has every right to have a huge ego and I can see why that’s wounded once you need your baby teammate to save your seat.”

**Thursday evening, Dani & Jorge**

”You have to stop being angry at him.”

”I know. But I hate him.”

”You don’t hate him. You hate Honda. Fine. Prove them wrong by being your best you next season.”

”Wow, that’s one typical Lorenzo-quote.”

”So what? As long as it works it’s valid. And now stop sulking, it’s our last evening together, please.”

**Friday morning, Dani & Jorge**

”You know what I don’t get?”

”Hm?”

”We got so much support and so little hate from the fans, why are Honda making such a big deal? You think they’d really just rather have Alex than me?”

”I think they’re just scared of the unknown. We’ll prove them wrong, don’t worry.”

”Do you know what Marc did to make them keep me?”

”Mhm. You sure you want to know?”

”Yes.”

”He told them he’d make out with Vale on their next joined podium if Honda kept being homophobic.”

”Really?”

”Yup. Emilio told me in the hotel last night, he was so pale still. I think that boy is going to give him a heart attack one day.”

”If he doesn’t, his brother will.”

**Friday afternoon, Julia & Vale**

”I don’t really know what to say… so… thank you?”

”Don’t worry. You’re welcome. We like our kids happy.”

”Yes, but this is quite a big deal and-“

”It’s okay. Really. We try to understand.”

”You try?”

”Well, obviously we’ve known you for a while and we knew he liked you… but we thought… I mean, no offense, but you’re… well, a bit older. Much older.”

”Oh… it’s about the age?”

”A little bit. But we can still talk on our way. Now let’s get into that car before someone sees us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From Street Fighting Man by The Rolling Stones


	32. Fianco a fianco

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you ♥ You make my day, always :)
> 
> And here's the second ground-breaking chapter of this piece... if you're looking for plot, I am sorry, but it left tonight and said it wouldn't be back until tomorrow ;)

”Maybe you should go upstairs and rest a bit?”

Marc stares at Roser, the advice more than a bit unusual for her but she just shrugs sighs.

”I’m just saying, Marc. You look worn out and you are planning to celebrate tomorrow night, so maybe you just get some rest? Your dad and Alex are spending the night at your grandparents anyway and I’m about to visit Elettra, so you have a quiet house, all to yourself and you can finally let everything sink in.”

He is still staring, not entirely sure about this, somehow suspecting something, everything so unusual, but she looks back at him without batting an eyelid so he finally just shrugs and gives her a hug.

”Okay… I will, I guess you’re right. And then we’ll celebrate tomorrow.”

She kisses him goodnight before he walks up the stairs, still musing about the somewhat strange situation and not entirely convinced that a freshly crowned MotoGP double world champion should spend Friday night alone in his childhood room, asleep before ten. Shaking his head slightly, still lost in thoughts, he enters his bedroom, casually dropping his bag next to the door and it takes him a moment to process that he’s not alone in the room. Not at all. Shell-shocked, eyes wide and mouth open, he stares at the bed, trying to say something but too flashed to form a word.

“Hey Bambino! I missed you!”

Marc can feel his inner fangirl run havoc. _Valentino Rossi is in my room. On my bed. Oh my God._ The thoughts run through his brain in an endless auto-repeat mode until he feels his face bright red, because not only is he looking at Valentino Rossi, sitting cross-legged on his bed and skimming a magazine, behind the real Italian, there’s still the posters of the Italian that have been there basically since his childhood. And Vale, who must have noticed his gaze and his shame, just chuckles and holds his hands out to him.

”Aw, don’t worry, I think it’s cute. And now come here. I took a six hour drive with your dad and I demand a proper welcome hug.”

Marc jumps into Vale’s arms and straddles him, their lips crashing, arms wrapping around each other tightly, teeth hitting. Until he suddenly pulls his head back, staring at Vale with widened eyes again.

”My dad took you here?”

”Yes, we had some nice conversations on the way,” Vale grins devilishly and Marc wants the ground to swallow him.

”Aw, Bambino, don’t worry about it. I’ll tell you tomorrow. But now… I mean… the house is empty and we’re all by ourselves… and I really missed you…” Marc listens with amazement how Vale’s voice turns into a purr and the sounds go straight down to his lap.

Maybe he should at least try to seem calm at this, should make an effort to talk first, possibly offer Vale a drink – though his mother surely took care of that – but just from the allusion in the Italian’s voice and the images it brings back to his head, Marc is all too easily convinced to do just what Vale basically suggested, willingly resuming the kiss, happily accepting that he’ll only hear about Vale’s trip hear and all the reasons behind it tomorrow. Briefly, he acknowledges that he does have the best family in the world, than he feels Vale’s hands under his shirt, rubbing the skin on the small of his back and his ability to think about anything else but the beautiful Italian in front of him is gone.

They share a languid kiss now, time suddenly seeming infinite, no pressure left and Marc loses himself in the way Vale is licking into his mouth, he tries to memorize Vale’s taste, slight hint of tobacco always traceable, and breathes in the scent of his expensive aftershave, he feels Vale’s callused fingers on his spine and the way the Italian’s curls tickle his face. The hint of stubble against his cheeks has almost become familiar already and he’s not in the slightest bothered by his chest pressing against another flat, toned chest, no softness at all. And he likes it, a lot, more than he ever expected. The fears, the shame that he felt at the thought of being with another man, they’ve faded into a distant memory and sometimes he catches himself wishing he had the courage of a Jorge Lorenzo. Or he catches himself making plans for a future, a house that’s theirs, family holidays, at one point, he even thought about himself as Marc Rossi. It’s the kind of plans he’s never made before, the kind that actually should freak him out, scare him or at least worry him, but strangely, he feels calm about it, as if he were certain about it for once.

After a while, the kiss grows messier, more tongue involved, hands grabbing at shirts until they break apart long enough to shed them, rest of their clothes following and their hands everywhere. With Vale’s fingers in his hair and his hands on Vale’s ass, he leans forward, pushing the Italian down into the mattress, kissing his way down Vale’s throat only to feel himself pulled up, face cupped by the Italian’s lean hands.

”I want to reciprocate, you know.” Vale looks at him, cheeks flushed, eyes darting up and down nervously, chewing his lips and Marc needs a moment to process it. When he does, he feels the jolt of arousal run straight through his veins, his cock throbbing responsively.

Maybe, if he thought about it, this whole idea, him fucking Valentino Rossi on his childhood bed under Vale’s poster, would seem strange. Luckily, Marc’s mind is far from thinking. Soon, he gives a nod and they lose themselves in another messy kiss that has them settle on the mattress properly, him on Vale, legs between the Italian’s, naked flesh of their crotches right against each other. The feeling of another man’s cock against his own is still new, but not in a bad way and it makes him moan into their kiss, friction delicious. All Marc sees is Vale’s face beneath him, covered in a sheen of sweat, eyes a shade darker than normal and staring at him greedily, lips coated in saliva. It’s irresistible enough to forget everything around him.

”I’m ready,” Vale exhales, biting down on his lower lip and Marc almost comes there and then from the husky voice and the image itself. 

He briefly shakes his head, then nods and finally leans down for a chaste kiss, his arm reaching out for the bedside drawer, blindly finding condoms and lube. He sits back on his heels to coat his fingers in the cool liquid and notices Vale’s eyes never leaving him and how the Italian’s chest is heaving irregularly now, giving away that despite all pretense, the older man is nervous about what’s to come. 

”Ready?” Marc tosses the tube and looks down, seeing Vale nod.

He needs a last deep breath. Needs a moment to close his eyes and silently beg for this to work out. Where he curses all the girls who refused to try this because damned, he could have used the practice. Then, tentatively, nervously, with trembling arms, he bends over Vale again, lips searching the Italian’s mouth and nipping his bottom lip while his fingers slide over Vale’s ass, finding the crack, a single digit teasing. There’s a brief gasp when he pushes his fingertip forward and he’s surprised just how tight this feels. He cannot imagine that there will ever be enough space for a cock, because right now it seems he cannot even get his finger inside without hurting Vale. Still, it worked the other way round so it would work like this, too, right? Hesitantly, he pushes forward, hears Vale’s breath catch.

”Relax,” he mumbles, more out of reflex. _As if I knew what I was doing here._

*

So, Vale knows pain. Quite a bit of it. And he expected this to hurt, but maybe not quite this bad. He desperately tries to stop clenching his muscles, aware that it’s not helping at all and he shifts his hands from Marc’s hips to the sheets, less afraid to damage anything there when he clenches his fists now, knuckles going white. And then, his teeth still gritting, it does get better. Not much, but just enough to feel bearable and he pushes back, trying to let Marc know, encouraging the younger man to move and he complies, finger tentatively pushing in and out. _Okay, so this could feel nice._ Vale takes a deep breath, but when he is just about comfortable, Marc starts adding a second finger. _Not good. This is not good._ Adjusting takes longer this time and he can hear himself pant from the exhaustion but also sees Marc’s arms tremble, sees the look of full focus on his lover’s face and it’s so gorgeous and overwhelming, that he forgets everything around him for a bit, his muscles loosening automatically, allowing Marc to move again and then Marc’s fingers bend and there’s only stars and fireworks and Vale possibly screamed out loud. He slowly comes back to his senses, eyes meeting Marc’s, the Spaniard smiling softly.

”Good?”

Vale nods eagerly, all inhibitions forgotten. _I’d beg for you to do that again._

”Do it again,” he presses out, his voice breathless, rough and Marc’s smile turns into a smirk before Vale’s vision blurs again as the younger rider starts moving his fingers.

The sensation is so intense, so delicious that he hardly notices when a third finger joins the others because he’s long been reduced to a writhing, panting mess under Marc, his hips now bucking up to meet the thrusts, hungry for more, ever so much more. Vale is vaguely aware that he’s babbling, a mix of swears and pleas spilling from his mouth and he doesn’t care, not one bit.

”Fuck me.” He spits the words out in one of his clearer moments, entire body shuddering and covered in sweat.

Their eyes meet briefly, solemnly, and he wails when Marc’s fingers are gone, leaving him strangely empty and on full display, vulnerable, too vulnerable for his taste. His eyes rest on Marc, watching the other roll down the condom, slicking his cock and nerves hit him hard at the realization that said cock is supposed to enter him.

”Sure?” Marc breathes the word into his ear, leaving a tingling feeling behind and he nods, although he is anything but sure right now.

For the very first bit, only the tip, he thinks it might not be so bad, and then he feels like he’s being torn into two pieces, impaled alive. There’s blood in his mouth because he’s been biting his lips so hard, his attempts not to cry out loud vaguely successful. It seems to take forever, endless attempts of Marc moving by the fraction of an inch, stopping, waiting. And Vale is amazed during the moments where he can actually think, because at Marc’s age, we wouldn’t even have had the physical ability to hold back for so long, leave alone the mental maturity. Marc however does and eventually, Vale feels that the Honda rider is buried completely inside of him. That doesn’t make the pain any less, but it feels like an achievement of some sort. Another round of waiting begins, their eyes locked in an intense gaze, Marc’s pupils dilated, eyes incredibly dark right now and Vale manages to breathe through it, finally relaxing with Marc’s fingers running through his hair and when at last, he feels he can go on, he carefully wraps his legs around Marc’s waist, adjusting to the new feeling and then urges Marc to move.

The first thrusts plain out hurt, prompting him to hide his head in the crook of Marc’s neck, mouth latching against the skin, teeth sinking in slightly, but after a few tries they’ve shuffled enough for Marc to hit his prostate with his moves – and from there on, it’s heaven on earth. Vale has two decades of sexual experience, but nothing he’s done has ever felt this good and it’s not long before he’s back into a state of squirming, panting and begging, his eyes squeezed shut and his fingers on Marc’s back now, nails certainly leaving marks. When he starts jerking his hips against Marc, they soon manage a common rhythm and for an instant, he realizes how special the connection between them must be for these things to be established so quickly. After a while, one of Marc’s hands reaches between them, taking a hold of his cock and if he thought the feeling couldn’t get any better, he is proven wrong now. The string of swears falling from his mouth is even filthier than the ones before, but it simply feels so good and at the same time he is so close, every growl coming from Marc going straight to his cock and making him even harder. But although it’s what they’ve been working to all night, his climax still takes him by surprise, so sudden, so strong that it seems the world is gone for a moment.

Under a haze of pleasure and exhaustion, he can vaguely here Marc scream, can feel him collapse on top of him and Vale’s fingers absentmindedly start drawing patterns on Marc’s sweat-covered back while he listens to the sound of their ragged breathing and waits for the world to stop spinning. His eyes find Marc’s, finding the younger man’s face as surprised and happy as he feels himself and finally, Vale feels calm enough to just enjoy the closeness, Marc’s body heat burning his skin, Marc’s fingers playing with his heart, Marc’s scent lingering in the air and the sheets. Suddenly, he feels home – in a place he’d never even been to 24 hours ago, in the country of his biggest enemies, in a house that he wouldn’t even find the bathroom in by himself, he feels home.

”Finally.” The word just falls from his mouth, almost subconsciously and Marc only blinks for an instant before he leans down to kiss his lips, soft, feathery.

Then he hears Marc’s voice, the Spaniard moving his lips right against Vale’s ear.”Yes, finally you’re here.”

_fianco a fianco_  
 _siamo già_  
 _…la tua strada e la mia_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song by Nek  
> (It means Side by side)


	33. Too Lost in You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I'm still looking for plot, anyone seen him? He's kinda cute, a bit small and slim lately...?! ;)  
> Also, be warned, it's about as tooth-rotting as it gets...  
> not sorry about that though, I needed that ;) ♥
> 
> Thank you for everything ♥

_Well you whispered to me_  
 _And I shiver inside_

They should shower, but somehow, getting up and moving don’t seem appealing at the moment and after a while, done with sliding out and tossing the condom in the bin next to the bed, Marc rolls off the Italian, settling on his side with his face propped up and watching Vale. It’s so incredible what they’ve become, he thinks, his eyes lost in the blue spots staring back at him, finding them so warm, so loving and a bit of the wonder he feels is mirrored in them. With his finger, he traces over Vale’s side, chest and stomach, feeling the gooseflesh and the shiver, lips curling into a small smile. _You’re beautiful. So, so beautiful._ There is a determination, a strength in his feeling for the older man that catch him off guard, that he hasn’t experienced so far. In the back of his head, the knowledge that this is awkward, impossible, somehow not meant to be, is still present, but there’s something about these moments – this one right here or their shared coffee in front of the motorhome - some calm and peace, that is so unprecedented, so nice, so overwhelming that he’d do anything to keep it. Really anything, he’d retire within the blink of an eye if they got caught and he was asked to choose. And that’s scary, losing yourself in someone else so much that you’d basically give up all of yourself only to be with them. It makes you dependent and vulnerable and both of these aren’t exactly up Marc’s street. But Vale has made him fall, hard and without parachute, so there’s no going back. He chews on his bottom lip, still marveling the face in front of him, finger still hovering over silky smooth skin, causing more of these beautiful shivers and the most amazing thing about all of it is that he feels like they’re having the deepest longest conversation ever – without a single word spoken in the room, only sounds coming from their breathing.

_You undo me and move me_  
 _In ways undefined_

He’s flat on his back and a wave of exhaustion, certainly justified after a week of testing and the most awkward drive of his life, has washed over him, leaving him drained, but thanks to Marc in the best possible way. They need a shower, but moving is out of the question, Vale thinks, his eyes locked with Marc, amazed by the darkness, the almost black color. It used to be a mystery to him, but lately, he feels that he can more and more read what’s behind the darkness that’s staring at him and the affection he sees right now is something he loves seeing there. For the first time – and being well above thirty it means something for him to think that – he feels sure, not only about his own but also about his partner’s feelings. It’s caught him by surprise, obviously and it’s still terrifying. Because really, that boy looking down at him, tracing patterns over his torsos that make him shiver from head toe, is just that, a boy. Sure, Marc has been through a lot and has his share of scars. And Vale can not only see the ones on his skin, over the past months he’s more and more starting to see the scars it left on the inside, the nagging fears, the knowledge about the own vulnerability, mortality even. He knows them all too well himself, but he thinks it’s a shame that someone barely 21 would have to know them. Though he should be glad, because it’s probably one of the factors that led to them working so well together. Outside, the sun is setting and the room is gradually getting darker around them and he knows they really should clean themselves soon, but it still feels so good, Marc’s fingertip on his skin, the feathery, delicate touches that make his muscles twitch ever so slightly and he knows that he’s been beaming all this time and it’s one of those subconscious, involuntary grins, coming out of surprise and wonder, one that you simply cannot wipe off your face, even if you wanted to.

_Cos' I'm slipping away_  
 _Like the sand to the tide_

It’s dark, outside and inside by the time he curls up against Vale, arm around the other’s chest after pulling the duvet over them, nose nuzzled in the Italian’s neck. Vale’s curls tickle him and he inhales Vale’s scent, feeling himself drown in it. They still haven’t said a word and it feels like anything he would say now would be unnecessary, needless, disturbing even, because if he’s ever been in a perfect moment with someone, this is it. Everything that they’d have to say, they’ve said. And the rest of the world could wait until tomorrow.

_Flowing into your arms_  
 _Falling into your eyes_

They end up never making it to the shower and Vale is vaguely aware that it might be unpleasant in the morning, but that doesn’t matter right now and he wouldn’t give this up for anything in the world, because he’s holding an armful of sleepy Marc Marquez against him, his lover’s breath evenly blowing against his neck, their bodies burning under the sheets. Whatever else there is to do or say or take care off, he feels like now is not the time. His eyelids flutter shut involuntarily and he knows they haven’t even said good night. But then, they haven’t said anything – and strangely, that feels just right, too. I love you, he thinks to himself, squeezing Marc a bit tighter than before and when Marc responds by lacing their fingers and squeezing back, Vale hears the Love you, too, as if he’d said it loud. Maybe it’s the most stupid thing he’s done in his entire life, falling for his enemy on track. Probably it will end with tears and rage, with both of them losing their careers and their mind. Luckily, tonight all of these fears don’t matter at all.

_If you get too near_  
 _I might disappear_  
 _I might lose my mind_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song by Sugababes. Judge me if you need to, I'll still love it.


	34. In the Sun

_We all feel ashamed sometimes every day_   
_I'll just keep it to myself_   
_In the sun_

Waking up in his own bed with Vale wrapped around him, breathing evenly against his neck, is the best feeling he has ever had, that much is an established fact now. Marc yawns into the pillow, hand reaching for his phone only to find that it’s past nine and they might have to get up to avoid being woken. And that’s where the awkwardness begins, because now he’s here, in a children’s bedroom, with a man of thirty-five. He’s not quite sure how to explain to Vale that his parents will probably want them to have breakfast with the rest of the family. And he cringes at the inevitable conversation, wishing the ground could swallow him. How would it feel for a grown up man with his own ranch to report to family breakfast? How should Vale ever take him serious? And how would the Italian deal with the situation in the first place? Maybe it would scare him away in the end, when he’d realize just how childish Marc’s lifestyle still was. Probably, it won’t help the situation at all that his entire family had left them the house to themselves last night, all of them having returned past midnight. Not that Marc would have closely listened for the footsteps on the stairs. 

With a sigh, he turns around in Vale’s arms, having to hold his breath for an instant. He cannot remember that he has ever seen Vale’s face as relaxed as this, lips curled into a smile in his sleep, messy curls framing it beautifully. Without even thinking about it, he reaches out, running his fingers through the soft streaks and then leans forward to press a kiss to Vale’s forehead. The latter does the trick, the Italian stirring slightly now. Marc chews on his lower lip, feeling completely overwhelmed with the situation and then Vale blinks and opens his eyes, beaming at him instantly. _And that was that. I’m officially lost to you._

*

He could get used to this, Vale thinks, when he opens his eyes to the sight of Marc’s smile, right in front of his own face and, not even fully awake, he follows his instincts and immediately wraps his arms around him and presses their lips against each other’s. It’s not even gross, with Marc, the morning kiss, not one bit. It doesn’t take much, a bit of playing with their tongues, a bit of scraping the other’s back and they’re both moaning into each other’s mouth. Also, the hardness between them is not just a morning inconvenience, Vale thinks, rolling his hips tentatively.

Then, Marc pulls his head back with a sudden movement and he holds his breath, has he misread something?

”Sorry,” the younger stares at him, eyes wide, breathing ragged already, “but we have to stop.”

Vale doesn’t understand and it must show on his face, because Marc sighs briefly and explains.

”My parents are here now and well-“ With amazement he sees Marc turn a deep shade of red, eyes evading his now and he finds it adorable, until he processes what the other just said.

 _Oh fuck._ Burying his head in the pillow, he realizes where he is and that he is probably expected to have breakfast with the parents of his much, much younger boyfriend, while fucking said boyfriend into the mattress noisily might be frowned upon. He will have to face the parents who’ve let them have the house to themselves and therefore probably are perfectly aware of what exactly they do once they’re alone. Being hit by lightning right here doesn’t even sound like a bad idea now, but that is not likely to happen, so he just releases a desperate groan into the pillow. On his back, Marc’s hand is starting to rub tentative circles and then he hears Marc’s voice.

”I’m so sorry. If you would rather leave-“

The broken sound, the stuttering, it shatters Vale’s heart and he’s quick to jerk up and resume their kiss for a bit before pulling back and locking gaze with Marc after a moment, the young man’s eyes looking at him with a mix of fear, shame and confusion.

”Don’t you even think that,” he whispers, his finger tracing Marc’s jaw. “Your family is perfect, almost as perfect as you and I love them. I’d never leave without your mom’s breakfast. And your dad was super nice on the drive here and just generally they’re ace.” He presses a kiss to Marc’s temple before he continues, “I will be okay. I just hope you understand that it feels a bit strange and well, I just, I hope they are not just polite but will really like me, because-“

It’s Marc’s turn to silence him with a kiss and then the Spaniard looks at him with a broad grin. “Don’t worry, they love you. They’d never have arranged this if they didn’t. They’re nice to everybody, but this is beyond nice.” And he has to admit that Marc has a point there and with their erections faded by the serious topic, they finally make it to the shower and get dressed. In the bathroom mirror, they exchange a last look, a last nod and Vale takes a deep breath. _I’ll be fine. So fine._ He just has to stop staring at his boyfriend’s ass that looks so damned tempting in these tight jeans and maybe he better avoids looking at Marc completely, because that white shirt isn’t helping matters either. With a helpless sigh, he follows Marc down the stairs. _Don’t these young people ever wear wide, comfy sweat clothes at home nowadays?_

*

”Good morning,” Roser turns around from the kitchen counter, trying to put on her broadest smile, but she struggles with keeping her face straight enough to not look mocking. It’s just too adorable, both of them unable to look at her, both bright red, both staring at each other, as if they needed to allow the other to say something to her. When she’s about sure she won’t burst into laughter as soon as she starts talking, she raises her voice again, holding out two cups and trying hard to sound cheerful but not gleeful, “Maybe you’ll be more talkative once you’ve had a coffee?”

They both nod, this time even without asking wordless permission from the other and she smiles and smiles, biting her tongue to avoid making fun of them, not wanting to embarrass Marc. Obviously, the news had been a surprise and at the same time, they really hadn’t. Because much like Alex, Roser had figured out that there was something before Marc and Valentino even noticed. There had always been something different in the way they had looked at each other and once the first pictures had leaked, she had known with certitude. Not that it doesn’t worry her, because the age gap is huge, because the situation couldn’t be more complicated, because no mother wants her baby hurt and Marc is making himself extremely vulnerable with this. On the other hand, she’d always felt sorry for her kids missing out on the relationship side because of their profession and she’d do anything within her power to make it a bit easier for them. And Valentino, age aside, is a good guy. Off track at least. So Marc could have had it worse, she supposes.

”Where are Dad and Alex?” Marc asks her hoarsely, blowing into his coffee cup and she realizes that Vale is almost trying to hide behind him, which is hilarious given their height difference and it’s not making the “I won’t crack up and mock them”-part any easier. _The things you do for your children._

”Alex is still in the shower and your dad should be here any minute, I send him to pick up some milk, we’re almost out. Why don’t you go and have a seat at the table already and I’ll call your brother down?”

She watches them take their seats, notices the way Valentino lets Marc pick, trying to respect their usual “family seating order” and she nods approvingly. _I’m sure he’ll have better manners than any of the girls Marc has brought home so far._ She hears the sound of a car on their driveway and sighs contently, everything finally in order for their breakfast. It briefly hits her that they might not have that many of these soon anymore, as Marc would probably think about moving and the thought almost brings a tear to her eyes, but she quickly shakes it off, no use in worrying about things that haven’t happened yet.

*

Alex quietly smiles into his coffee, witnessing the funniest family breakfast of his entire life, with his father trying to keep a conversation going, having resorted to discussing motocross with Vale and with Marc and Vale both red-faced and his mother obviously giggling about the awkwardness. It’s a strange mix between horror and happiness and he has to admit that a part of him is jealous, because as weird as it would be to have girl with him here at the table, it would also be quite nice, the stolen glances, the fingers brushing against each other, the way he’s sure Marc and Vale’s knees are glued together under the table. He is happy for Marc though, all jealousy aside, because it feels deserved and because he still thinks that the sparks between the lovebirds are hard to miss. Maybe also because he feels a bit responsible and rather proud about it. 

”So you’re all going to party tonight, right?” He hears Vale ask in another of these slightly awkward moments where the conversation has faded away.

”Yeah, we so are. But don’t worry, I’ll watch Marc so he’ll still be fit when we return and you- OW!” He snorts and stares at Marc, who just kicked his shin and is now glaring at him. “What? You’ll be okay, we’ll all be drunk and exhausted and pass out in our beds so we won’t even hear when you- OWW!” 

*

Julia watches his sons with fondness and amusement, doing his best not to laugh openly at the scene and his eyes dart back and forth between everybody, Roser staring at her plate determinedly, silently shaking from her suppressed laughter, Marc glaring at Alex, Alex chuckling and Vale squirming. He feels a bit sorry for the Italian, because he can remember meeting Roser’s parents for the first time and feeling mortified and this must be even a hundred times worse. 

”Well, Alex,” he hears his older son’s voice dripping with sarcasm, “what do you think, has Lola seen that video of you where you drunkenly sing My Way? Into a banana? Because I’m pretty sure Tito still has a copy of that.”

Julia narrowly ducks from a croissant that was supposed to hit Marc and while Roser now starts scolding both of the boys, he gives Vale an apologetic smile, the three other Marquez-members involved in a full-force discussion on table manners and who started what.

”I’m going out for a cigarette… want to come along?”

He can see the relief wash over the Italian and they flee, mostly unnoticed.

”So, does this happen regularly?” Vale looks at him, blinking against the morning sun and still seeming insecure, but calmer than in the kitchen.

”Hm. I’d love to say that no, it doesn’t, but you could probably tell that I’m lying.”

”Your family is great.” It sounds genuine, not like some flattery and Julia nods, maybe more to himself than to Vale.

”Yes, they’re the best.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She & Him


	35. New Soul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because when I really cannot bring myself to write something, I can always resort to confusing brief snippets with too much dialogue. Sorry about that, but it was either writing it like this or not writing at all and I am pretty glad this one is out of the way. I promise it'll get better next chapter ♥  
> On the plus side, this has a hint of an update how Dani and Jorge are doing (Gah, I miss them!)

_I'm a new soul_   
_I came to this strange world_   
_Hoping I could learn a bit about how to give and take._

”Thank you for arranging this.” Vale holds his cigarettes out to Julia, not sure he’s ever seen Marc’s father smoke but now witnessing him taking one and lighting it, not looking like it’s the first at all.

”Told you yesterday already that we’d do anything to see him happy.” He sees the shrug and remembers their conversation in the car, his own red cheeks, Julia’s stuttering. God, this must be the single most awkward weekend in his life and then he realizes something and a soft curse falls from his lips, prompting Julia to raise a questioning eyebrow.

”Sorry. It’s just… I only realize now that you and Roser, you’re the first,” Vale gulps, the higher meaning of pretty much everything just dawning on him, “it’s the first time I’m officially meeting the parents of one of my partners. Ever.”

*

Somehow they make it through the day, mostly lazy and actually without the brothers killing or hurting each other. Then, before they really know it, it’s time for the Marquez family to go out, leaving behind a still somewhat shell-shocked Italian, in disbelief about everything; being in Cervera, meeting his boyfriend’s parents officially, said parents trusting him enough to leave him alone in their house and last but not least, his bottom sore from being fucked. And none of that has ever been on his list of situations he’d expect to find himself in. Eventually, he spends his time on the phone, talking to Jorge, trying desperately to find some distraction from the thoughts swirling in his head, making him dizzy.

”Hey, how is Cervera?”

”The part I’ve seen, which is one house, is kind of nice. How is Dani?”

”Could be better, has been worse. He’ll get over it.”

”And how are you?”

”Honest or Dani version?”

”What’s Dani version?”

”I’m great, better than ever.”

”Okay. And honest version?”

”I can’t believe I was stupid enough to do that, I should never be allowed around alcohol ever again, I wish the ground would swallow me, I hate myself for doing that to Dani and I hate my father for ignoring everything.”

Vale giggles briefly. “You know, I like Dani version better.”

”Me too,” Jorge sighs, “Me too.”

”And how do you feel about being out?” It’s the question that’s really been bothering him and it seems that tonight cards are open enough to ask.

”Phew, to be honest, I don’t know. It doesn’t change much, you know? Less than I thought anyway. Most people are okay with it. Being gay is mostly okay. I’m ignoring the hate and I’m ignoring the voices that say I’m some hero for gays, because drunkenly posting you have a boyfriend is all kinds of things but not heroic. Other than that, I think I’m mostly okay. I just hate seeing Dani like this.”

”But he wanted to come out, didn’t he? Marc mentioned something like that.”

”Yeah, that’s true, but I don’t think he wanted to do it like that,” Jorge chuckles and Vale joins him, noting with relief that once the Majorcan could joke about it, he was definitely on the road to recovery.

They chat about some meaningless things, exchange some stories from testing and then say goodbye when Jorge wants to join Dani for dinner. Vale falls on Marc’s bed with a sigh, wondering how everything changed, how they went from rivals to couples that could basically double date, how Lorenzo and Pedrosa could have gone from hating each other to sharing dinner in a house in Geneva. Probably with a view over the lake and candles. And the image, that a few weeks ago would have been too much cliché and over the top romantic for Vale, suddenly seems rather appealing. With other, similar, pictures in his mind, taking a walk in the snow, Christmas together, breakfast on his terrace in the summer, watching movies while cuddled up on the couch, he slowly drifts away, once again with a smile on his face.

*

At some point during the night, Vale is woken up by a loud thud against the door and he blinks his eyes open in the vaguely lit room just in time to see Marc faceplant on the floor.

”Marc, goodness, get up boy.” He hears a hiss and then Roser’s head appears in the doorframe.

”Hey Valentino, sorry we woke you. Could you get that slightly deranged MotoGP champ into his bed and maybe make sure he survives the night?”

Vale nods and whispers a yes, already gotten up to lift Marc by his arms and drag him towards the mattress.

”Thank you, goodnight Valentino!”

”Goodnight,” and he briefly hesitates, not sure if it’s Roser or Mrs. Marquez but then she closes the door already and spares him further embarrassment. _Goodnight Valentino._ Actually, that has sounded pretty sweet. With a sigh, he drops Marc on the mattress and climbs over him. _Don’t you dare getting sick on me._

*

The way to Rufea is unusually quiet and Marc quietly suffers, his head pounding, well aware that he still has too much alcohol in his veins to be allowed to drive. On the backseat, he hears the occasional groan, Alex sound asleep again. Vale has taken a rental car, keeping up the image that they all only met at the dirt track and it’s pathetic and absolutely unacceptable, but Marc already misses him. _God, I’ve become one of those people._

*

As predicted, they’re the last to show up, but then Marc and Alex obviously just got there as well and they certainly don’t look as if they’re fully awake and neither does Tito. Vale comes to hug her the moment she sets a foot to the ground and right, she’s here because of him. At least, she’ll have to look like it for the next few hours and it’s strange when you’d much rather kiss the guy who just got out of the car with you and who’s now casually greeting the rest of them. Linda follows his example, giving out little hugs and kisses, finding the blushing Alex Marquez most adorable and ruffling his hair, not missing the irritated look by Lola. The young girl surprises her, as she’s not in jeans and T-Shirt but definitely motocross clothes. She hugs her to say hi as well, noticing the other’s cool voice but shrugging it off. It’s not the first and won’t be the last time she intimidates a young woman and Linda has learned to deal with it. It dawns on her that she’ll be the only one watching today, while her eyes secretly get glued to Nicky, mesmerized by the way the muscles in his back twitch while he changes into his gear. _Oh, I hope that house Marc booked for all of us comes with thick walls, because there’s no way I’m missing out on that view tonight._

*

It’s weird, Tito thinks, being the only single among all the couples. Even when the couples are doing their best not to look like couples at the moment. He leans over the fence, head on his hands and watches Nicky and Vale, who are the first to be ready and possibly the most sober out of all of them. If there’s one thing he’d really love to learn quickly, it’s the easy going way of life they seem to have, the way they don’t takes themselves too seriously all the time, the way they can run around there, joke and tease each other like children, even when they’re so much older than the rest of them. 

”We’re going next?” Tito turns his head, finding Marc next to him, looking miserable but in full gear and apparently determined to get on track.

”Sure, sure.”

”Are you okay?”

”Hm? Why?”

”You don’t look okay. And you’re alone. No girlfriend in sight?”

”Nope,” Tito shakes his head, feels his cheeks blush and wonders what Marc would do if he knew. “How are things with you and Vale?”

”Pretty good, pretty damned good.”

*

Alex puts on his helmet and closes the boots, mind almost immediately in race-mode. It’s difficult to push that aside, even when they’re really only riding for fun today. It will never be only for fun with them, because they’re trained to want first place and nothing else. While he walks over to his bike, he sees Tito, sitting on the ground next to Marc’s bike, smoking. He looks sad, Alex thinks to himself and he wonders why he hasn’t brought a girl for himself. Not like he doesn’t know any, Alex is sure he does. But he’s just slouched there, looking crumpled and somehow, Alex cannot really look away, cannot really identify just why the image of his friend Is getting to him so much right now.

He has expected a lot of things from Lola, but seeing her in motocross gear wasn’t one of them. It does look irresistible on her though and he more than willingly agreed to her offer to race her. Against all his competitiveness, he is even willing to let her win, he thinks. He takes it easy on the first lap and she’s following him surprisingly well. At least, she doesn’t look like a complete idiot on the bike. They keep going, counting the rounds, and when it’s getting towards the end, he deliberately slows down a tiny bit, hoping she’ll catch up. Which she does, but not only that. In fact, she passes him, easily and when he tries to chase after her, he rather sooner than later realizes that she totally isn’t an idiot on the bike. He has just about made it back to her, when she takes speed up another notch and their race ends with her victory, gained way too easily for his taste. When they’re both walking back to the rest of the group, helmets off already, she stops and turns to him, smiling widely and throwing her hair back in an almost breathtaking way.

”Tito has not told you that my parents own the track he learned racing on, has he?”

With Vale, Marc and Nicky bursting into laughter and Linda chuckling along, he turns to glare at Tito, who shrugs, helplessly giggling into his sleeve. And there’s that strange feeling again, that somehow Tito is looking at him differently today.

*

It’s fun to hang out with them, that much is for sure. Lola will always be grateful for Tito dragging her along, but somehow, it doesn’t quite feel the same today. Some of the adrenaline of their last night has worn off, the excitement is mostly gone and even beating Alex on track doesn’t feel quite as good as it should have. She leans back against the van and watches Marc race Valentino, impressed by the skills, the dedication and the fact that the same two men who look completely, utterly, crazy in love whenever they have taken their helmets off, are absolutely reckless on track, neither of them hesitating to push past the other with full force. It’s amazing and she’s not quite sure if she could do it. When Vale has finally won and they’re getting off, coming their way, she lets her eyes wander over the others, sees the unmistakable way Nicky is leaning towards Linda while the two talk, giggling over something on Linda’s phone and then she sees Tito and notices that same sadness in his eyes that had already been there this morning and the he refused to admit, leave alone explain to her. Then she lets her gaze travel to where he’s actually looking at – and that’s when she suddenly understands.

*

Nicky has just finished his second race of the day, beating Alex Marquez and he’d cheer about it if he wasn’t so sure that it had been an uneven duel from the start, young Marquez looking more than a little hungover. The American barely manages to put away his helmet, when a soft voice behind him makes him jump.

”You’re driving to the house with Vale and Linda, right?”

He stares at the small girl behind him, nodding slowly and blinking in confusion.

”Could you do me a favor?”

Lola, Nicky thinks to himself, relieved to remember, her name is Lola. But what in this world could he do for her?

”What favor?” He asks hesitantly.

”Could you take me to a friend’s house first? I think I cannot spend the night with everybody.”


	36. Finally Found You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the day of delay ♥ And thank you so much for everything! Your feedback makes my world a better place ♥

”No questions, okay?”

Linda sighs and looks at the girl slumped in the backseat and then, pressing a kiss to Nicky’s temple, she moves to slide into the backseat herself.

”Okay. No questions,” she says firmly, taking a hold of a trembling wrist, some dirt still on the pale skin.

She can hear Nicky snort in the driver’s seat and kicks it, prompting him to start. _I guess men never understand, not even you._ Linda’s eyes rest on Lola’s face, not missing the tear, hastily wiped away with the arm of a hoodie. Lola is pouting defiantly, but her eyes are betraying the girl and Linda has no problem reading her mind, especially not since she saw. She saw what Lola saw and with the intuition of a woman who’s been through much of that herself, she’d realized what Lola had realized.

”You’re being very brave,” she says simply, squeezing the hand in hers.

”Brave or dumb. Not much of a difference then.”

 _Poor thing. But you’ll heal._ Linda sighs, squeezes the hand again and then, staring out of the window now, absentmindedly mumbles, “All the difference actually.”

They drive in silence until Nicky parks the car at the address she told them. She is about to get out when she suddenly looks at Linda, biting her lower lip hesitantly.

”Do you have a pen and some paper?”

”Let me see.”

Linda resists the urge to ask and comes up with a pen and an old receipt from a gas station. Hurriedly, Lola scribbles something on the back and hands her the tiny paper, neatly folded.

”Can you give it to Alex?”

”Sure.”

”Don’t read it.” Linda almost smiles at the still so very defiant, still so teenage-like pout on her face and nods.

”I promise.”

*

”Bedroom?”

”Don’t you think we need to be polite and have dinner with them at least?” Vale, leaning against the glass door separating the garden from the house, stubs his cigarette and gives Marc a questioning look, but the younger shakes his head violently.

”Seriously? I doubt anybody came for politeness. They’re all horny as fuck.”

”Marc, language,” the Italian chuckles, wrapping his boyfriend in a hug and sighing into the soft, black hair.

”Pff,” he feels Marc’s hands under his sweater and shivers, “they really are here for that. Or do you mind your ex banging your other ex?”

”Nope.” Vale bites down on Marc’s neck, enjoying the gasp coming from the other’s mouth.

”See? Okay, maybe Tito will feel a bit left out, but I offered he could bring Rebecca and he-“

”He won’t,” Vale says, only then realizing that Marc doesn’t know.

”Huh?”

”Well, you know how Nicky said they’d be a bit late?”

”Mhm.”

”He’s dropping Lola off at a friend’s.” Vale’s hands rest on Marc’s shoulders and the younger rider’s hands still on his back while the Italian waits for the penny to drop.

”But Lola is Alex’s-“ Vale starts counting backwards from ten in his head, smiling against Marc’s neck now. “Shit. You better be kidding me.” _Bingo, it dropped._

”And now, while you’re still having that adorable shell-shocked expression on your face, let’s go and have dinner with the others.”

”You and your manners.”

And a chuckling Vale walks inside, dragging a pouting but also still confused-looking Marc with him. _So cute how you had no idea._

*

_Talk to Tito. Love, Lola_

Alex folds the little piece of paper and slides it in the back pocket of his jeans, shrugging helplessly. Talk to Tito, as if things were that easy, he thinks to himself, slowly walking downstairs, smell of pizza in his nose already. He’s the last at the dinner table and he is far too lost in thoughts to really notice his surroundings, their conversations muted for him, his eyes mostly on his plate. Sometimes, he looks up, throwing a quick glance at Tito, hoping the older rider doesn’t notice. _It’s impossible. We’ve known each other for years. How could I not have known and how could you not tell me?_ And then he hears Vale laugh out loud and looks over to his side, Vale almost with tears of laughter in his eyes while Marc is tickling him and suddenly, it doesn’t seem that crazy anymore.

*

”Finally,” Nicky growls, pushing Linda forwards towards the mattress, her hands clawing to his shoulders and pulling him down with her.

”Mhm. It’s about fucking time.” Her tongue traces his jaw before she nibbles on his earlobe.

”Fuck sounds so good.” His hands find their way under her shirt and she all too willingly helps him to shed it, bra following and he loses himself for a moment, looking at her perfect body, a gentle finger circling one of her nipples. He smiles when he feels her shudder under the light touch, her skin now covered with Goosebumps. 

”Very good,” she purrs into his ear, her fingers toying with the hem of his shirt.

He lifts his arm obediently and then gasps, when her cool fingers run down his now naked sides, touch making him shiver.

”Off,” she says, voice hoarse and her fingers hooked under the waistband of his jeans.

She can go from purring kitten to dominatrix in a second, Nicky thinks and it makes him even harder, knowing just how good it will feel, anticipating all too well what the night is about to bring. Holding her gaze, amazed by the darkness in her widened eyes, he wriggles out of his jeans and underwear.

”What about you?” His finger taps against the button of her jeans and she follows his lead, until they’re both kneeling on the bed, naked, shivering from excitement rather than coldness, eyes locked intensely.

All the memories from their last night together briefly run through Nicky’s head, his cock twitching excitedly and then he cannot hold her gaze anymore and cups her face, pulling her in for a violent kiss, feeling overpowered by lust and desire and pure, animalistic needs. Their lips literally crash, teeth hitting with a loud noise, both of them growling and her nails dig into his shoulder when her hot body presses flush against his. _Yes, this will be so, so good._

*

”I missed you.” Marc cuddles up against Vale, a messy trail of clothes left behind on their way from the door to the bed, both of them naked under the sheets and he eagerly presses against the tall and so very lean body next to him, body heat burning him.

”And I missed you,” Vale mumbles and turns around, facing him, blue eyes sparkling beautifully, “We’re becoming one of _those_ couples, right?”

”I guess,” Marc chuckles, pressing a kiss to Vale’s lips, “but I don’t mind. Do you?”

”Not one bit.”

Vale merely whispers, his breath hot against Marc’s face and Marc could moan just from that. It’s amazing, completely, absolutely amazing, he thinks, while his eyes are drowning in that somehow shy, tentative smile on Vale’s face. It’s nothing like his usual, overly confident grins, nothing at all like the Vale that the public knows. It’s so much softer, warmer, so unbelievably shy. _And it’s reserved for me._

”Still sore?” Marc’s finger traces a line down the Italian’s spine, resting on the small of his back and his lips curl into a grin when Vale pouts at him.

”If you want to, I’m all in.” It sounds a bit defiant and Marc remembers all too well how he felt after – well, after _that_. He chuckles, loving to wind up the older rider a bit and then shakes his head, forcing his voice down an octave in an attempt to sound seductive.

”I think,” he growls into Vale’s ear, his hand slowly closing around the Italian’s hard on, “I have an alternative suggestion.”

*

Tito has dropped face first on the bed the second he made it into his room, not even bothering to turn on the light and just sighing desperately. Being around Alex is becoming an increasingly unbearable situation and he hates that his own feelings are betraying him so much, getting so far out of control all over sudden. After all, he has done fairly well suppressing his impossible desire for quite a while, but now it seems he’s lost the fight without knowing why and when exactly things changed. And now Lola just decided to disappear, which is good, because she’s his best friend but he still feels like strangling her whenever she is too close to _his_ Alex. He remembers her telling him about the night after Valencia, remembers how he thought she was ripping his heart out and how he needed every bit of his self-control to stop himself from tearing up. Hopefully, she hasn’t – a sharp knock against his door pulls him out his thoughts and makes his head jerk up.

”What?” He groans, face still deep in the pillow.

”It’s Alex, can I come in?” _Fuck. Or well. Probably not._

”Alex?”

”Alex Marquez, tall, lanky, moto3 champ, remember me?”

He cannot suppress the brief chuckle and with a small sigh, he orders him inside.

”It’s dark.”

Tito reaches for the night lamp, turns it on and looks to the door, blinking in the new light. Alex is leaning against the door, all long, slender legs, casual grey hoodie, slim fingers toying with the hem and a nervous, almost red face.

”If you’re here because of Lola, I’m sorry, she hasn’t told me why she left.” Tito sighs, sitting up against the headboard and motioning to the empty spot next to him, trying to convince Alex to take a seat.

The younger rider takes the offer, folding his long limbs neatly until he’s sitting cross-legged on the bed, facing Tito with a tense face.

”I’m not here because of Lola.” There’s a pause and Tito raises a confused eyebrow while Alex’s gaze drops, evading his. “I’m here because of you.”

_In this crazy world of choices I've only got a few_  
 _Either you're coming with me, or I'm coming with you_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enrique Iglesias. Please don't judge ;) (Not too hard at least.)


	37. Fire In The Water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ♥ ♥ ♥

_Love's the sweetest feeling_   
_openly believing_   
_No matter what we find there_   
_Come back in through the eyes there_

This time, she has him right where she wants him, under her, squirming and with his hips bucking up greedily, hands tied to the headboard and fighting the restraints. Linda lets a dangerous smile cross her face and leans down, her hair in his face and her mouth right next to his ear.

”Eager much?”

To emphasize her words and increase the teasing, she sits down lower, moving from his stomach to his crotch and hovering over the hardness. It makes his hips buck up almost uncontrollably and she wouldn’t really need an answer anymore.

”Linda, please.”

”Aw, Linda what?” She purrs, then licks a stripe down his neck, tongue finding a way to his left nipple, teeth grazing carefully. 

His eyes are pleading silently now, but she can see the sheen of sweat that makes his skin glow so deliciously and she sees the Goosebumps on his skin, feels the shivers that run down his body and hears his breathing turn more and more shallow.

”Fuck. Linda!”

She allows herself a brief chuckle and a teasingly sucked bruise on his collarbone before she has mercy and takes him in, sitting down until he is buried to the hilt, her fingers drawing gentle patterns on his chest. Her eyes are glued to his face, mesmerized by the way his eyelids flutter closed and his lips part slightly, breathing now truly ragged. _You’re the most gorgeous thing ever. You really are._ Then, she starts rolling her hips tentatively, his hands struggling in their restraints again, back arching towards her and a low growl rumbles through the room loudly. _Well, let’s hope the walls are thick enough._

*

”So, these other things you were suggesting-“, Vale props his head up on his elbow, eyes wandering down Marc’s body, lying next to him in glorious nakedness, “would you elaborate?”

”Hm,” Marc looks at him, talking about something and he’s once again lost in that incredible darkness of the young man's eyes, not even listening to Marc’s words for an instant, just staring at the beautiful face in front of his own and wondering what he did right in his life to deserve this. “You’re not even listening.”

 _Busted._ Vale smiles apologetically, thinking how much he’d love to kiss away that pout on Marc’s lips.

”Sorry, I was distracted by my handsome naked boyfriend next to me.”

”Nice save, man.” The younger chuckles and a finger reaches out, hovering over Vale’s sides, making him squirm and shiver. “As for your question, I was thinking that maybe I could, you know-“ 

To be honest, Vale doesn’t know, not one bit, but the way Marc is blushing is beyond adorable.

”Show me?” He asks, curious what this is about and he receives a nod in return, but not without Marc swallowing nervously. _What have you planned?_

Next thing he knows, he is pinned down, back against the mattress and hands in Marc’s grip, their lips crashing for a violent kiss that has him squirm again, his cock almost rock hard against Marc’s stomach. He’s moaning into the kiss and gasps for air desperately, when Marc pulls his head back. While Vale is still catching his breath, he feels Marc kiss his jaw and then move down his throat, littering his collarbones and chest with little kisses. He has to suck in a deep breath to avoid swearing when Marc starts teasing his nipples, biting gently and when Marc moves even lower, the pieces finally fall into place and he understands. _Fuck._ The idea, the mental image alone are almost enough to make him come and his hands clutch tightly into the sheets, anticipation suddenly unbearable. He simply can’t believe this is happening, but then, it’s not like he ever believes anything that’s happening between them can possibly be real and when he feels Marc’s lips hovering over tip, it takes more self-control than ever no to thrust immediately. _God, you’re so much more than I deserve._

*

Because he felt like they were about to have a talk that shouldn’t happen on a bed, he had asked Tito to come outside with him. And now they’re both shivering, standing on the small balcony, elbows on the railing. Alex’s eyes are staring into the dark sky, but he’s not really seeing anything, his vision blurry and his head dizzy. _This is absolutely fucked up and crazy. We’re not Vale and Marc, we never had that chemistry. You’ve never cared about guys. That’s what you said. Remember? Because you’ve always been the one I could talk to, you’re the one who knows I’m bisexual. And you know about Lola and that she was the first and oh my God, this is just too weird._ Alex sighs, not knowing where to start and to somehow make this easier, he just starts another cigarette. Probably, he should have thought about what Tito means to him before he knocked against that door. But that’s too late now. He allows himself a stolen glance at the older rider, who is leaning over the railing and staring into the sky much like he does himself. Tito has always been, well, what? A brother? Not really, he has an older brother and Marc is enough of that for a lifetime. Tito has always been a close friend, someone to trust, someone to talk to when he had troubles. But more? He hasn’t really thought about it – though right now, where it’s suddenly a thing, he could… 

Alex looks again, takes in the silhouette of a lean, tall man whom he knows has a gorgeous smile and pretty eyes. And maybe the only reason he never considered it. After all, Tito had claimed to be absolutely straight very determinedly. And convincingly. In the end, that makes perfect sense, because if he hadn’t wanted Alex to know, the strategy worked perfectly well – until Lola came along and saw right through it. _Must be some truth to female sixth sense._

”Sorry,” he croaks after a while, second and third cigarette long stubbed, the silence heavy between them, “I suck at dealing with this.”

”Don’t feel like you have to- I mean, you don’t have to like me back, you know? We can still just be friends, I can deal with it. Really.”

Alex stands there, frozen, sound of Tito’s voice echoing in his head, scenarios playing back and forth and in the end, he does the first thing that came to his mind and pulls the older rider towards himself by the collar of his sweatshirt, smashing their lips against each other. His heart definitely stops beating for an instant, the one moment where he expects any reaction from a shove to a punch, but then he feels Tito respond and actually melt against him and he releases a relieved breath into their kiss, finally focusing on the feeling of Tito’s lips against his. _I didn’t know I needed this – but I do now._

*

”So,” Nicky’s brain resumes normal function, his afterglow fading and he’s holding her tight against his chest, their bodies burning under the sheets, “we’re a thing?”

”Hm, I think you could say that.”

”And you and Vale?”

”Will keep pretending to be a couple for a bit more. Jealous?”

”Actually,” he sucks a small bruise on the delicate skin of her pale neck, “actually, yes.”

”Aww, but Vale has replaced me with a younger model.” She chuckles and it’s this humor, this kind of sass that has always made her so attractive.

For the hundredth time, Nicky wonders just how and why he would deserve her, but apparently, he’s done something right.

”You think we’ll work?”

”No,” she says with a sad voice, turning in his hold and his heart drops to the floor, until she’s turned around fully, beaming at him evilly. “I KNOW we will figure it out.”

He pokes his tongue out, trying to look angry instead of just relieved, while thousands of rocks fall from his chest .

”Sorry, couldn’t resist.” She chuckles against his shoulder, the laugh vibrating through his skin and her arm drapes around his waist, holding him close.

”Shower?” He asks, not feeling like moving at all but reminded of the inevitability because the sheets feel sticky against his back.

”Okay, shower. But you have to promise me something.”

”Huh? What?” Nicky frowns at her, confused by the sudden demand.

”Promise,” she repeats and he nods, unable to resist her. 

”You have to promise to help me set up Lola with someone.”

*

Vale had come down his throat with a strangled cry and Marc slowly crawls up the bed, eyes meeting Vale’s, amazed at the disbelief and affection in the Italian’s eyes and surprised to be pulled into a kiss immediately.

_I can’t believe I did that. And I can’t believe it felt good. But it did, somehow, having you under my control like that, making you sound like that, writhe like that, is simply perfect._

”I never thought you’d-“ Vale is whispering into his hair, the Italian’s hands rubbing his back and Marc swallows.

”Me neither. But it was… I don’t know… it seemed the natural thing to do.” He snuggles against the Italians side, his arm possessively around the older man’s chest, feeling the narrow, fragile frame and once again wondering just how easy to break Vale could be under that shell of unapproachable giddiness, the shell of childish demeanor that the older had built up to keep most people away at arm’s length without them noticing consciously. 

_You’re letting me in…I’m just not sure why you’re doing me the honor. And I hope I’m worth it. But I’m definitely thankful, very thankful. Now I just have to learn how to read you a bit better, because somehow, I think there’s so much more to you than I’ve found out until now._

”Vale?” He mumbles after a while, head hiding in the crook of the taller man’s neck now, voice muffled.

”Mhm,” comes the sleepy response.

”Didn’t you like the pizza? Or are you sick?”

”Hm?”

”You hardly ate tonight.” Marc shrugs, not sure why he was bringing it up at all, but it just suddenly occurred to him.

”I’m okay, just not hungry tonight. Maybe I was too excited about having you here in my bed.”

”Oooh, I like that idea,” Marc giggles, pressing himself even closer against the Italian.

”Which reminds me,” Vale’s voice sounds more awake suddenly, “You haven’t really had any fun yourself yet.”

Marc can hear the dirty smirk and chuckles.

”Hm, not as much as I could, I guess… so, you have any suggestions?”

”Not just any. In fact, I have many.” Vale growls into his hair and the sound goes straight to Marc’s groin. _Up for round two it is then._

*

”That came a bit unexpected.” Tito leans back against the balcony door, voice hoarse and breathless. 

_Actually, that’s the understatement of the century. It came out of nowhere and wow did you just catch me off guard. Also, I don’t think you’re aware of what’s just happening in my pants so please keep looking at those stars. And stop looking cute. Because I have no idea how long I can stop myself from backing you up against that wall anymore. Dammit. I’ve managed to hold this back for five years now, not slipping once. You can’t just come up to me and kiss me. Dammit._

Because Tito is sure that he is not what Alex wants. Or needs. He’s thought about it countless times, tried to find things in his favor, but in all honesty, there were none. He is the worse ride, lacking the incredibly talent of a Marquez, he’s not half as handsome, he is also some years too old and boring, no jajaja or horn pranks. So he cannot be what Alex is looking for and he doesn’t want the younger rider to be here with him only out of pity. So he takes a deep breath and tells Alex just that.

”So, you shouldn’t be with me,” he concludes after his rant, turning around to leave but held back by an iron grip around his wrist.

”Do you really, honestly, genuinely think,” a dangerous voice growls into his ear, Alex suddenly close, too close to him, “I would do this out of pity?”

And the soft lips of the boy that keeps him away at night are against his again, feeling so good, parting so willingly for his tongue and Tito doesn’t understand what is happening. Or how. Or why. But Alex is right, it doesn’t feel like a pity thing.

*

**Elsewhere that same night…**

”Open the box.”

”Jorge, that’s- I mean, really, it’s-“

”Yes. Not much reason not to now that everybody knows, right?”

”So it means we’re doing it?“

”Is that a yes?”

”Yes, of course it is. Yes, yes, yes!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song by Feist


	38. You are my joy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as there's seemingly enough misery elsewhere for all of them already *sniffs into blanket*, I thought I'd prolong the fluff. ♥
> 
> And thank you, all of you, for being there and reading, kudossing and commenting, that's so, so sweet and nice and wonderful of you ♥

_I won't be there to break your sweet heart_   
_But not being there might break your sweet heart_

”I don’t want to get up.”

”Me neither. But we have to.”

”I know.” She buries her head under the pillow and he makes her move by tickling her, leading to her attacking him with a pillow and ending in a messy kiss.

_You’re so beautiful. Incredible and beautiful._ Nicky sits back on his heels, panting slightly and watches her, flushed face, no make-up making her look like fifteen, messy hair. One of the few women who look even more gorgeous without all the effort they usually make.

”So deal about Lola?”

”Deal about Lola. I’ll ask Vale, I’m sure he’ll have his ways.”

”I doubt there’s anything Valentino Rossi doesn’t have his ways for.”

”Ouch. Don’t make me jealous of your perfect ex.”

”Perfect ex?” She bursts into a fit of laughter and while he knows he will never completely lose that spark of envy towards the more successful Italian rider, he would never come between them. After all, he has been a loyal friend for pretty many years by now.

”Linda?” 

”Mhm?”

”Why do you care so much about Lola?”

Maybe it’s a weird question, maybe she just cares about anybody or any other woman, but somehow he cannot get over the feeling that there’s more to it.

”You don’t realize?” She pulls her head back and stares at him, brows furrowed and now he knows he’s missing out on something.

”I-“, he shrugs, helplessly, because, really, he doesn’t, “no, I don’t.”

”It’s simple. Same situation.” She takes his hands, lacing their fingers and she’s sitting there, in all her beauty, smiling sadly, continuing with her soft voice, while Nicky doesn’t react, cannot put his finger on what she means. “It’s not like Vale just fell for Marc a few days ago, you know? It’s always been there. Maybe you didn’t see it. The public didn’t, at least I don’t think. Hell, I don’t think Marc or Vale ever saw it until fairly recently. But it’s been there, basically from the first moment they met. I saw Vale and I saw how he looked at Marc and I knew I had lost him.”

_Oh._

*

”We’re trying this?” Tito sits up against the headboard, eyes scrutinizing the sleepy face next to him and still full of disbelief but also joy about this situation. 

_I am waking up with you. In my bed. And you’re half-naked and ruffled and more beautiful than ever. And you kissed me. YOU kissed ME. Wow. WOW._

”Mhm,” Alex rubs his eyes, making him look even younger, cuter than before, “I think we can do that. I mean… gay riders is totally trending, right?”

”Right. We’re only following their lead.” He grins and feels the rocks of relief crash down from his chest, because obviously, that kiss won’t be a one-off. He’s getting what he wants. Finally. A title and an Alex. _Still. Just wow._

”So, are you going to invite me to Almeria or what?”

”Hm?” Tito blinks, slightly clueless.

”I mean,” Alex is sitting up now as well and he’s cupping his face, the touch of the slender fingers sending shivers down Tito’s spine, “if I understand correctly, we’re dating, right? Or we’re trying, at least?”

Tito nods, trying to focus on the words, totally incapable to process the meaning and not get carried away by the feeling of Alex so close to him, which normally would be enough to send him into crazyness.

”See, if we’re doing that, you should invite me to Almeria. Nobody will be surprised, it will be the most innocent looking trip among friends ever – and as soon as the lights go out, we can see about that dating thing.”

_And here I was thinking you were innocent. Boy, was I wrong. And I can’t believe you’ve thought about this. Us. And apparently, more._ With fascination, Tito stares at the evil grin on Alex’s face, the expression even beating his older brother’s at his worst by lengths and it’s absolutely irresistible.

”Okay, so Alex Marquez, would you do me the honor to be my guest in Almeria for the upcoming weekend?”

He barely has time to finish the question because the younger rider is smashing their mouths together again, the breathless ‘yes, thought you’d never ask’ getting lost between them.

*

”So?” Marc stands there, arms crossed in front of his chest, looking over the now clean kitchen, everybody except them having left already.

”So?” The Italian’s voice sounds as hoarse as his own, insecurity palpable.

Vale comes to stand right in front of him, close enough to lean against him. Releasing a sound between a wince and a whimper, Marc cannot help but wrap his arms around the lanky Italian’s shoulders, holding him close, face in his neck, drinking in his scent one final time.

”So I will miss you like hell? I don’t want you to leave? I don’t think I can deal with this Vale, I really don’t. I don’t even know when I’ll see you again and that’s not-“ He has to stop, his voice about to fail and tears springing from his eyes, ending up in the Italian’s hoodie.

”I know,” Vale whispers, his hands rubbing over Marc’s back, a weak comfort in a seemingly hopeless situation, “I know, believe me, I know. But if you want to make sure you have something to look forward to… maybe come to the ranch next weekend? There’s an event and it’s not like we haven’t done that before?”

_True enough. I mean… I’ve visited you before and nothing exploded. So, yeah. Why not?_

Marc pulls back, rubbing the tears into the sleeve of his own hoodie, slightly blushing and smiling at the Italian with a nod.

”Yeah, I will. And sorry.”

”Sorry?”

”For the tears. We’re really becoming one of those couples.”

Vale laughs, the bubbly sound making Marc happier than anything else.

”Maybe we are,” the Italian bends down to kiss his forehead, “but I won’t complain.”

”Good. So we’re saying goodbye now… “

”Yes, but only for a week.”

”Only for a week. I can do that. And you promise me to eat properly.”

”Pff, I don’t mind being one of those couples, but your obsession with my eating is worrying me.”

”Sorry,” Marc smiles against Vale’s mouth, kissing him briefly before pulling away and winking at the Italian, “but you skipped breakfast and I feel like I have to look after you, I promised Linda.”

”Pfff. Yeah, you better beware of that woman. And now, before we leave, I have something HUGE to show you that I just saw. It will blow your mind, believe me!”

”Hm?” Marc takes the phone from Vale, finding twitter open and reading through the tweet on the display, eyes growing wide and jaw dropping. “Seriously?”

His eyes meet Vale, both of them suddenly grinning like idiots.

”Yeah, I think they’re totally serious,” Vale nods, wrapping Marc in another hug, “I mean, I miss the motivational quotes, but those new Lorenzo-tweets sure are worth following him.”

Marc’s eyes glance over the picture of the ring and the brief message underneath, not leaving a doubt about Jorge and Dani’s intentions. _Wow._ He leans back in Vale’s hold, head against the narrow shoulder. _Wow. And really… could be us eventually. Right?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song by Reindeer Section


	39. Wonder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a lot like ripping of a plaster. And I'm sorry. ♥

**A week later, some tweets, Skype and calls down the line…**

_why we can’t be…_   
_or see…_

”Vale, I’m sorry, but I think I can’t do this.” Marc gulps, trying hard to hold back the tears.

_”Do what? Visit me? Why, is there anything else happening the next weekend?”_

The innocence, the genuine unpreparedness in Vale’s voice is not making it any easier and Marc takes a deep breath, collects himself, before he explains again.

”I can’t… not just the ranch. I don’t think I can do us.”

_”You’re kidding me?”_

There’s a hint of anger in the Italian’s voice and Marc looks at the knuckles of his free hand, clutching in his own jeans, white from the force with which he’s holding on to the fabric.

”I am sorry,” he says, blinking against the tears that dwell up and desperately urging his voice not to betray him.

_”Bastard.”_

And he wants to explain, he wants to tell Vale about what changed his mind, but the line has gone dead. And maybe it’s better this way because it will keep him from changing his mind, from getting weak. With a numb feeling spreading inside his body, everything heavy as lead, he drops the phone and sinks back on his bed. In front of his eyes, the Youtube video he has been watching constantly these past days replays, same words echoing through his head again and again.

*

_…who cuts us asunder_

”Why didn’t you tell me?”

”Tell you what?”

”This.” Dani glares and almost hits him with the tablet he’s pressing into Jorge’s face.

Jorge takes it, with shaky fingers, eyes scanning the article and he can feel himself getting more and more pale while reading, his heart feeling colder and his head spinning in a mix of anger and despair.

”Dani, I’m sorry,” he croaks after an eternity, tablet dropped to the bed and his head lifted slowly to meet Dani’s eyes and tears streaming down his cheeks.

*

_You’re the thunder…_   
_going under…_   
_over me_

”What do you mean it’s not working? It hasn’t even started.”

”I’m sorry, okay, but I can’t do this secret thing.”

”It’s not my fault that it’s difficult.”

”It’s not difficult for them.”

”Alex, please, it’s hell on earth for them and you KNOW that. And we can just eat here, why is that such a problem?”

”It’s not. Not tonight. But I don’t see a perspective from your talking. You’re so goddamned obsessed with your career and all the effects this may have that there’s not even an inch of place for me.”

”You better be kidding. Because yeah, you know what? I had to work for my career, it wasn’t just given to me. So of course I’m scared. Of course I’m careful. And of course I want to win. Even against you. And I’m not sure we’re ready to that. Well, after tonight I’m sure we cannot. You’ll probably expect me to let you pass me on track, because you’re the golden boy, aren’t you?”

”I can’t believe you think that.”

”You bet I do.”

”Out of all the people who know me, you should be the one who understands best just how much I had to do for my career. And out of all these people,” Alex stops and takes a breath, voice about to collapse, “you should be the one who understands. Everything. I told you EVERY STUPID THING. Because you know what, I trust you. Trusted you. But you’re not better than anyone else, only seeing what you want to see.”

He leaves without turning back, door slamming shut behind him. Maybe he heard Tito call his name. Maybe it’s wishful thinking. It doesn’t matter, because he’s already starting the car. It’s not even so much about Tito being scared. Not anymore at least. But that Tito would call him out on having it easy. Tito of all people. That’s what hurts.

*

_…don’t forget to pray_   
_to keep it away_

”Heard from Vale?” Linda falls down on her couch, glad to hear Nicky’s voice and at the same time, craving nothing more than having him closer.

_”Mhm, but something seems off.”_

”What do you mean?” She can’t keep the worry out of her voice, feeling panic rising in her veins.

_”Marc apparently told him he couldn’t do the couple thing. Again.”_

”Small bastard. How is Vale?”

_”He’ll have his reasons. I don’t know about Vale, he sounded bad.”_

”I think I’ll visit him.”

_”Why?”_

”Because I care about him.” The words haven’t left her mouth completely, when she realizes the slip.

_”Sorry. I forgot about your guys’ ‘relationship’.”_

Nicky’s voice comes from far away suddenly, dripping with sarcasm and ice cold. It’s not usually her thing to apologize or explain, but this time she has to, has to tell him why and how she means the caring about Valentino, except when she finds the words she wants to say, the line has gone dead already.

_Fuck. Stupid jealous fool. Stupid, stupid fool._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beautiful song by Soap & Skin


	40. The Road to Mandalay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone who followed Break Me knows it: I have a thing for these roadtrips ;) ♥
> 
> The last scene is not in strictly chronological order. It was just less interrupting this way, sorry. 
> 
> Cannot say it enough: Thank you for everything ♥

_Everything I touched was golden_  
 _Everything I loved got broken_  
 _On the road to Mandalay_

“Alex?” Roser stares at her younger son, supposedly in Almeria but standing in front of her in the kitchen, looking worn out, glaring out of red eyes and in rumpled clothes. _Great. So now we have one drunk and curled up on the couch and the other looks like he’s going to break some glasses tonight. Just great._ Her heart aches at the sight, like every mother she wishes there was something she could do. But years of experience with man and not to forget her own marriage have taught her that in fact, there’s nothing to be said or done in these moments. Certainly not with a broken teenager who is going through this for the first time in his life.

”Where’s Marc?” Alex still glares, voice hoarse. _My baby cried. My poor baby._

”On the couch. Guess you don’t know why he’s curled up in a ball and finished a bottle of your father’s favorite red by himself?”

For an instant, surprise crosses her younger son’s face, then he shrugs and walks towards the living room.

”Don’t worry about is, we’re going on a trip.”

He doesn’t even turn around to say it and she sighs, the deep, exasperated sigh of a woman who sees sleepless times approach her, hours of infinite worry, because no matter what they say, of course she’ll be out of her mind. Still, she knows she cannot change their minds.

*

”Marc, get up, we’re going somewhere.”

His older brother blinks his eyes open, staring at him in confusion and Alex knows how insane he must look himself, but one look at Marc confirms that he’s not doing better. In fact, he might be worse, eyes as red and teary as Alex’s own, face flushed from the alcohol, sight obviously blurry.

”Not going anywhere.”

And he’s slurring. Alex doesn’t care though, all he wants, all he needs is air, space, getting out and he’s scared of what he’ll do when he goes by himself- so Marc has to come along. And the state he’s in, along with the fact that he’s not in Tavullia, are enough of an indication that Marc could use the same therapy as Alex.

”Get up. We’re getting out of here. Out of everything.”

He pulls away the blanket, earning a furious glare.

”Cold. Can’t drive.”

Marc tries to get the blanket back but his moves are no longer coordinated.

”I’ll drive.”

Alex just drags him along, the smaller rider stumbling behind him.

”You can’t drive, you suck at driving cars,” Marc slurs while they’re getting out on the driveway already and Alex cannot help the chuckle that crosses his face before he jabs his elbow into Marc’s ribcage. “Ow.”

”Serves you right. Get in and buckle up.”

”Where we going?”

He is starting the car, Marc curled up on the passenger seat, forehead against the window, staring into the dark and Alex shrugs, turning on the radio.

”Anywhere. Out.”

*

Marc drifts away rather quickly and Alex keeps his eyes on the road, not noticing how tired he is, not caring about the drizzle against the windscreen, ignoring speed limits. His brain is in Rufea, in a small vacation home and an even smaller room, on a queen size bed with an EG blue duvet – which had been a neat coincidence. Tito’s face had been so beautiful that night, so happy, serene. Alex hadn’t known the older man could smile so shyly, so softly, so warmly. And his lips had tasted like wine and toothpaste and a bit like salt. Pretty unique. Pretty Tito. Blood trickles from his lower lip, because he’s bitten it too harshly, trying to hold back the inevitable tears that are making their way down his cheeks. In the end, he’d been a liar like all the others. Boys, girls, whomever he had met and chatted up until now. They’d usually been more after Marc. Or signatures and free tickets. Well, Lola hadn’t, but as hot as she was, there hadn’t been any sparks. With Tito though… he remembers that moment, when they had both taken their shirts off, when Tito’s fingers had traced his collarbones, when his jeans had suddenly been incredibly tight. Nothing happened that night, nothing besides sloppy kisses and their hot bodies pressed against each other under the sheets, both of them hard but neither daring to ask for more. Alex sighs, he had really, really thought Tito would be different. But as they say, erring is the right of the young.

*

He has the car parked after less than three hours and it’s completely, utterly dark. Black. And silent, absolutely quiet. Nothing like they know it. Alex fidgets for a cigarette, getting ready to leave the car, when Marc stirs next to him, blinking outside, staring at the sign across, lit by the car lamps. 

”Seriously?”

He stares at him and Alex shrugs. Obviously he’s serious. And Marc seems sobered up. Pulling out the car key and turning off the lights, he steps out, shivering from the cool air, drizzle against his face. With his cigarette finally lit, he leans against the hood, staring ahead, the hill almost in complete darkness. After a moment, he more feels than sees Marc lean next to him, to his surprise stealing his cigarette. And they stay silent, hanging after their own thoughts, until Alex turns his head, throwing Marc a questioning look.

“Talk about it?”

It’s dawning at least a little now and he can see Marc shake his head.

“No. You?”

“No.”

They stand and stare and shiver together, both starting to soak in the light rain, while it’s gradually getting lighter outside and after a while, when his thoughts have finished another circle around his argument with Tito, Alex stubs another cigarette and nudges his brother.

”Let’s go up.”

He points to the hill and drags Marc along without waiting for an answer.

”You’ll get us in so much trouble.”

Behind him, Marc is growling, while they’re making their way over the fence and Alex just laughs.

”I’m sure they’d be delighted to know we’re breaking in here. No better way to let them know how much we love the place.”

They remain quiet on their way up, only sounds coming from their footsteps on the muddy ground. 

”So,” Marc sounds slightly out of breath and puts a hand to his shoulder, both of them looking down, the place laying there splayed out, mix of grey and green, “why are we here?”

_Because the world is shit place to live in. Especially in your shadow. And because humans are thoughtless and selfish. And because even when you have everything you ever dreamed of you still feel so goddamn lonely in your bed at night._

”Because,” Alex sighs, his hand finding Marc’s shoulder, too, “the world was perfect when we were here. Only for a split second, but perfect nonetheless.”

They fall silent again and Alex’s thoughts follow the familiar path to that little room in Rufea and then to Tito’s place, from the most delicate kiss to the ugliest words. Finally, when he feels he cannot bear it any longer, he lets out a brief cough.

”You must think I’m going crazy,” he mumbles, wondering what Marc really thinks about all of this. Next to him, he hears a brief chuckle.

”Not crazier than your usual self. And now let’s go, we’ll catch pneumonia if we stay here much longer.”

_And you’re right. Again._

Alex Is the first to turn around and walk down and before Marc follows him, he hears his brother mumble something to himself, barely audible.

”God, I love Cheste.”

_Same here. Same here._

*

”Give me the keys, I’m driving. You’re dead tired.”

Usually, he’d fight, but Marc is so right that Alex lacks the power to even try. He just hands them over and slides into the passenger seat. When he briefly checks his image in the rear mirror, he almost shudders from the sight. _Yes, looking pretty dead._

”So,” Marc is leaning over the steering wheel, making no effort to start the engine, “what happened in Almeria?”

”Tito asked me to park in his garage and hid my car, then wouldn’t even go outside with me. I wasn’t even supposed to be on his balcony. Leave alone dinner together somewhere. I disapproved, he disagreed and we took off from there.”

Alex swallows hard, tears returning and glances over Marc who is nodding absentmindedly.

”What happened that made you stay in Cervera?”

”Watch the last minutes.”

Confused, Alex takes Marc’s phone, looking at the video in front of him, familiar face greeting him from the screen. While he waits for it to load, he tries to remember what it was about. Sic, certainly Sic. Was Marc jealous? There were also some bits about Casey… he skips the first minutes and only watches the end. He knows it the second he hears it. _I think, first of all, I want to be a dad._ Alex turns off the video hurriedly, looking over at Marc who’s returning his gaze with tears in his eyes. _This world really sucks sometimes._

*

”You think they’re okay?” Roser stares out into the dark, feeling Julia’s arm around her shoulder, head dropping against his.

”Of course they are. They’re like cats, always landing on their feet.”

”Why can’t they have it easier?”

”Because they’re living their dreams and that comes at a price. And now come on, just because the young people can be out all night doesn’t mean we don’t need any sleep. And it’s almost morning again.

She’s following him up the stairs, gratitude for the rock in her life washing over her. _Without you and that inexplicable faith in all the good in this world I wouldn’t be able to stand any of it, you know? Not the fear when they’re riding, not the worries when they’re injured – I would have died 2011 – not the suffering because they have their childhood taken from them. You’re what makes it bearable._ They’ve almost made it to their bedroom, when the doorbell rings and their eyes meet, both immediately thinking the worst. They almost trip over each other when they rush to the front door, Julia yanking it open only to freeze and Roser gapes at the slouched figure on their doorstep.

”What are you doing here?”

_Every mistake I've ever made_  
 _Has been rehashed and then replayed_  
 _As I got lost along the way_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song by Robbie Williams
> 
> Find the video here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DDSYSjpL22E (After the ninth minute, roughly at 9:20, I think.)


	41. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry ♥

_So when I'm ready to be bolder,_  
 _And my cuts have healed with time_  
 _Comfort will rest on my shoulder_  
 _And I'll bury my future behind_

He’s curled up on his bed, in a dark room, waiting for his mind to doze off. And it’s simply not happening. Over the past hours, he’s tried calling, has left messages, sent texts, tried twitter DMs and if he had one, he would send a dove with a message next. Everything he can think about is Marc, everything he wants is Marc, everything he sees, hears and smells is Marc. There are no words for the horror he felt when the phone call came, when his brain slowly processed the younger rider’s words. No words for the agony he’s feeling now, that he’s been pushed away a second time. It’s not that he cannot understand, really, because he can somehow see that it’s difficult, coming to terms with liking another man, accepting that you don’t know yourself, realizing that you put your career and future at risk. Only, he would have thought after the things the shared, the things they’ve said, they would have made it to a point where they could talk about it. He’s been proven wrong. And that he doesn’t understand, because to him, it seemed so real, so true, so genuine when they had been together. More sincere than he’d felt with anyone before and he had gotten the impression it was the same for Marc. _I was wrong again._ Outside, it’s getting lighter already, new day dawning over his ranch and he fights tears when he thinks of how he thought he’d wake up next to Marc today, how he would open his eyes to that beautiful face. With the memories flooding his thoughts, he almost misses the sound of the doorbell and he’s tempted to stay where he is, because damned, it’s early and everybody knows he doesn’t do early. But then a flicker of hope runs through him, a spark of trust that Marc has changed his mind, has somehow gotten here and would be waiting for him on his doorstep and it makes him jump up from the bed and run, only grabbing a shirt on the way.

*

She takes the familiar path, approaching the door she’s gone through so many times, entering a house that she once thought could become her home. Yes, she still loves the place. Not just this, also the region, the village, the people. Even if being here meant being photographed constantly. And right now, she is well aware that the pictures she had heard and felt people take with her on her way out here won’t sit well with Nicky. But then it’s not like she hasn’t tried to explain. With a shrug, she presses the door bell, not sure what to expect as she hadn’t reached Uccio. And she didn’t take that as a good sign. It takes a while before she hears steps approaching, but then it’s early morning and not really his time to be up in the first place. But the footsteps come closer eventually and then the door does swing open.

”Linda-“

She sees the disappointment on his face and winces, realizing whom he must have expected.

”I’m sorry.”

She feels herself shaking and trembling and then she’s pulled in a hug, door kicked closed behind them and it’s all so wrong. She’s here to help and not the other way around. She should be holding him, not bury her head in his hoodie and she should be encouraging him, not sniffing quietly.

After a bit of standing there, dynamics change and he’s no longer holding her but they’re clinging to each other and she can hear him cry, too. _I’m sure you’ve never cried for me._

”Wine?” He mumbles it into her hair, hands clinging to her shirt.

”Wine for breakfast?”

”It’s not breakfast when you haven’t slept yet.”

And that’s how they end up on the small brick wall right outside the kitchen door, sharing wine from the bottle and cigarettes. Neither of them is talking, her head on his shoulder and his arm around her waist while they watch the sun rise. _A few years ago, I would have given everything to share moments like these with you, but you’ve always shut me out in a way and I knew, I fucking knew you didn’t love me back. And then he came along and suddenly I could let go and start over. Without either of you. And it was good, life without riders. If only you guys didn’t have these magnetic forces attached to you that always have me run back. Used to be you. Now it’s him. Result is the same, it’s always tears and more tears and another flood of tears._

"I always felt at home here," she says softly, hand squeezing his thigh and feeling herself blush. _What a stupid thing to say._

"It will always be your home. If you want to. You can come whenever you feel the need."

_Can you not? Can you just not be nice and caring you for now? Can you maybe just... I don't know? Be angry with Marc? Yell? Scream? Something. Or anything._

"Where's Uccio?" She asks, curious, worried, because Vale shouldn't be alone right now.

"Family vacation," he answers with a shrug and as she has not idea what else to say and he apparently doesn't want to talk, they fall silent again, only sounds coming from the earliest birds.

They are leaning closer and closer, maybe too close, she thinks, feeling Vale’s breath against her face when she turns to look at him. These blue eyes, they always captivate her, they haven’t really lost their spell and she’s glued to him, cannot look away. Instead, her fingers find their way under his hoodie. A brief flash of irritation crosses his face, then his hands are running through her hair, resting in her neck, her skin tingling and shivering under his touch. And still these blue eyes, staring at her, piercing her, reading her. Under his hoodie, her finger traces his spine, searches his chest, hovers over his ribcage and when they’re leaning forward, their foreheads almost touching, suddenly remembers why she’s there and pulls back. It seems to wake him, too, because he’s jerking up, standing in front of her now, leaning against the kitchen door, shaking his head.

_Close call. Damned close._

”I kissed him,” she whispers absentmindedly, still staring straight into the sunrise, stealing another drag from his cigarette.

”Who?”

”Nicky.”

”I know. I saw.”

”I don’t mean last week. I mean two years ago.”

”We were-“ He sounds confused for a moment and then releases a small ‘oh’ when he understands. And she has no idea why she brought it up, even less why she did it now, at the least suitable occasion.

_I'll always keep you with me_  
 _You'll be always on my mind_  
 _But there's a shining in the shadows_  
 _I'll never know unless I try_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song by Gabrielle Aplin


	42. Sunglasses at Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for being brief on this. I found these two a bit tough to write together :/ I promise the next one will be longer again.
> 
> ♥

He pushes his sunglasses down, squinting, trying to figure out where to get a rental car at this stupid province airport. Silently cursing to himself, he stumbles around until he almost bumps into someone and when he realizes, whom it is, he almost chokes. _Why would YOU be here? Shouldn’t you be with someone else? And this can’t be a coincidence, surely not. People do not get stranded at this airport by accident. This is somewhere you only come to with a destination in my mind. For the two of us, there’s only goal that can mean._ He inhales sharply, taking the sunglasses away.

”Vale?”

The other nods and follows his example and Nicky is surprised, or rather shocked, about the deep red eyes with the dark circles that he sees.

”Vale.”

As if that one word, that one name, explains everything. Which in a way, it obviously does. With a sigh, Nicky puts his glasses back.

”Share a rental car?”

Next to him, the Majorcan follows his example again and then shrugs.

”Why not?”

 _Yeah. Why not? And I appreciate you not asking, man._ They walk in silence, following the signs. The clerk obviously recognizes them but choses –wisely - to ignore, only the blush and slight stuttering giving away his state of mind. Putting on a broad smile, he hands over the keys.

”Enjoy your stay!”

Nicky grabs the keys harshly and almost snaps back how he will do all but have fun in this goddamn country, but Jorge’s hand suddenly rests on his shoulder. Firmly, the younger pushes him away, steering him towards the exit.

*

Jorge slides into the passenger seat, Nicky as the older apparently their designated driver. They leave the airport in silence, heavy, tense silence. If he knew how to turn it on, Jorge would get them some radio music as distraction at least. Instead, not wanting to be bothered with the technical details of the thousands of buttons and switches, he stares out of the window, trees and houses passing quickly. After a while, his vision blurs, only seeing colors that fade into one another.

”Why?” His head jerks around, Nicky’s voice startling him for a second.

Not really sure how to answer that, Jorge takes a moment to look at the older rider. He’s awfully handsome, that much is for sure and everybody around him has confirmed that dozens of times. Today though, he’s looking weary, tired, drained. There are some lines that normally aren’t showing on his face and he’s clutching to the steering wheel tight enough for his knuckles to go white.

”Shouldn’t you be with Dani, celebrating your engagement?” Nicky tries again, shooting him a brief glance.

With a sigh, Jorge takes something out of his pocket.

”Dani ran away. And left this on the kitchen table.” He holds up the ring, eyes blinking against tears now. “Don’t think there’s anything left to celebrate.

It’s silent for another moment, Nicky obviously uncomfortable now, regretting the question.

”What took you here? Thought you’d be with Linda most likely?”

”Yeah. Well. Linda is with Vale.” 

_Oh. Fuck._ Jorge gulps audibly.

”Sorry, mate.”

”Hm. Kind of my fault. Might have acted like a dick.”

”Me too.”

”What’d you do?” Nicky eyes him curiously.

”Didn’t tell Dani that I knew about Marc’s plan to save his seat. And didn’t tell him that I asked Vale to take care of it. Vale saved both of our seats, I think.”

”Oh. Sounds awkward.”

Jorge snorts and sighs, shrugging helplessly.

”Could have been a nicer weekend, I guess. Well, anyway. Somehow Dani got a cc from an e-mail he wasn’t supposed to get and found out. And I thought a break on a ranch with a gallon of Vale’s wine and motocross with him and the bastard would be nice.”

”Oh, the bastard won’t be there,” Nicky says softly, sadness in his voice.

”Why is that?”

”No idea, sorry. I just know that Vale cried to Linda about Marc cancelling again and she wanted to run to his rescue.”

The bitterness and hurt in Nicky’s voice are hard to miss and Jorge finally has an idea of what might have happened.

”You got jealous?”

”Didn’t need to. I’ve been jealous of that Italian superhero ever since I saw her for the first time.”

_Hm. So not a new thing between the two of you then?_

”Do you know where Dani is?” Nicky asks after a bit and Jorge is thankful the American breaks the silence.

”No idea, not one bit. Phone is off, social media is dead silent," Jorge sighs, not even wanting to think about what Dani is doing right now, "What happened to Marc though, no hint whatsoever from Linda?”

Next to him, Nicky snorts.

”I wish I knew." He hears the other exhale deeply. "Think they’ll work it out?”

 _They must. Because when they can, it means we can. And if they fail, I’m afraid it means we’ll fail as well._ Jorge keeps his look on the rapidly passing trees and shrubs, swallowing down another huge lump in his throat. 

”Yeah,” Jorge says hoarsely after a pause, “yeah, I’m sure they will.”

They spend the rest of the way in silence, the day slowly fading out, both lost in their own thoughts. Eventually, Jorge drifts away, only waking up when Nicky pulls into the driveway to the ranch, parking next to another rental car.

”Guess she made it,” he hears the American mutter next to him, sunglasses back down although it’s almost dark outside.

”I don’t know her well enough to judge,” the Majorcan whispers, hand on Nicky’s forearm, realizing they’ve never been close before although both in the paddock for so many years now, “but Nicky, I really, really know Vale. And you do, too. And you know he would never, never ever do that to you. Or her. Or Marc.”

_And I wear my sunglasses at night_  
 _So I can, So I can_  
 _Keep track of the visions in my eyes_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song by Corey Hart


	43. New Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ♥

_There's a monster in my kitchen_   
_So I will not go in_   
_They just start an expedition_   
_To fix the mess I'm in_

“Dani, what are you doing here?“

”Is Marc home?” A tear-stained face looks up to her and she bites her bottom lip. _You’re not well, that much we know now._

”Actually,” she starts, but he interrupts her quickly.

”Oh right, he’s in Tavullia, isn’t he?”

”No,” she sees the flicker of confusion on his face and sighs, “no, he’s not. But now come inside, it’s too cold to keep standing there. Dear goodness, you look bad. Have you driven all night?”

He nods and she just pushes him into her kitchen, ordering him to have a seat and he doesn't fight, or complain or react at all. He just quietly follows whatever she tells him to. So she doesn’t even ask and just starts making coffee. Julia comes to stand next to her eventually and they both watch the little heap of sadness sat at their kitchen table, face in his hands, clothes and hair rumpled, eyes red. She shakes her head. It just didn’t seem fair that the world was making it so difficult for them. Especially Dani. That poor boy that she’d seen in the gravel so many times.

”Talk to him,” she whispers into Julia’s ear, before she pours them two mugs of coffee and makes her way out. She cannot resist ruffling his hair on the way out though, part of her always forgetting how much older than her sons he is. And the way he's looking tonight, he much rather resembles a lost child than the almost thirty year-old man he is in reality.

”It’ll be okay,” she says, heading out for now. And she knows she’s telling that mostly to herself, trying to convince her own mind that yes, all of this was still fixable. Even if she had no clue what happened with Jorge and Dani, whom from her last knowledge should be celebrating an engagement, she still had to believe that it would be good in the end. Because they deserve no less than that.

*

”So,” Julia hesitates, not quite sure how to deal with a broken down teammate of his son slumped in his kitchen, looking wrecked, “you drove here all night?”

”Mhm. Crazy, right?”

”Possibly. We do weird things when we’re hurt.” Dani shoots him a glance, flash of desperation on the small rider’s face. Julia coughs and waits for a moment before he continues, “And why Cervera?”

”I wanted to talk to Marc.”

”I didn’t know you’re that close.”

”Hm. I don’t know,” Dani looks like he’s contemplating the question, then rubs his face, “I really don’t know. But I think from the people around the paddock, he’s closest to me. I don’t have and Alex or a Tito like Marc does. And my parents-“ The younger man trails off.

”They’re not taking it well, I suppose?”

Dani nods, letting out a sigh.

”No, not at all. Not even just the gay-part. They think I’m wasting my career. How do you do it?”

”Do what?”

”Deal with Marc and Alex and their- well, choices?”

”Maybe we have a bit more trust in the world? After 2011, we needed to establish the rule that everything will be okay.”

”As simple as that?”

”As simple as that.” Julia nods, determinedly, finishing his coffee and waiting for Dani to do the same.

”You need sleep. I need sleep. Let’s rest and then you’ll explain me why you wanted to talk to Marc,” Julia says, taking their mugs to the sink. When he turns around, Dani has gotten up from the table and looks at him curiously.

”If he’s not in Tavullia, where is he?”

”We rest, you tell me why you’re really here and I’ll tell you what happened to Marc.”

He ushers Dani upstairs, into the guestroom, throwing him some clothes from Marc – because Alex’s would look even more ridiculous – and then makes it into the bedroom. It’s actually their normal time to get up, but he wants at least a nap, so he sneaks under the covers, eyes glancing over Roser who’s curled up sleeping peacefully. _I love you so much, a little more each day. Even after all these years. I wonder if we were as crazy as these young people._ His mind travels back in time, back to the days when there were no children, but disapproving parents and no money and all kinds of obstacles thrown at them and it only takes him a minute before he states to himself, that yes, they were at least as bad. But they grew together, they learned how to fight, how to love, how to let go. And he falls asleep with an arm around his wife’s waist and the certainty that his kids and their friends would be smart enough to learn as well.

*

She wakes up with the sunlight tickling her nose, eyes falling on the slightly snoring man next to her and a fond smile crosses her face. _You still look like you did back then when you sleep._ She carefully pulls the blanket back up, covering him neatly and tiptoes out of the room, grabbing a knitted cardigan on the way. As nosy and inappropriate as it seems, she allows herself a peek into the guest room, relieved to see the tiny body curled up on the bed. _The world will look brighter once you’ve slept a bit, I promise._ She’d know, that much is for sure. Roser remembers fighting with one of her friends over Julia, because she surely had to earn him then. And she had to fight her parents who thought he was a bad influence. They had to find his parents, too, because they felt she was high maintenance. They struggled financially. They had a few rough years. Fallouts over how to raise the kids. Because naturally, she did not like the idea of her babies on motorbikes one bit. But they managed, because they love each other and she’s sure, from the way the men look at each other, that for Dani and Jorge that’s true, too. And it’s true for Marc and Vale, too. It’s Alex and Tito that has her unsure, but then maybe that’s because they haven’t looked well enough yet. Absentmindedly, she prepares her coffee and sits down at the table. Reminiscing about the past, fond smile on her face when she remembers Julia’s proposal, on his knees, with candles and roses and everything, she blows into the coffee, waiting for it to cool down. Until the doorbell brutally wakes her from the memories. Once again fearing the worst, she hurries to open it, only to stand there gaping once again.

”What are you doing here?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song by Max Mutzke


	44. Lake of Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bridge, preparing the meltdown ♥
> 
> Thank you ♥

_Now the people cry and the people moan_   
_And they look for a dry place to call their home_   
_And try to find some place to rest their bones_   
_While the angels and the devils try to make them their own_

”Sorry, Tito,” Roser ushered the next wrecked young soul inside her hallway, “Alex isn’t here.”

”Marc?”

”They went off together, sorry. We have no idea what they’re doing.”

”Oh. Well, I guess I should go then.”

He actually starts turning around, but Roser stops him, firmly holding his shoulder.

”Tito Rabat, if you think I’d let my oldest son just walk back out and drive in the obvious state of devastation that you’re in, then you don’t know me one bit. And now, kitchen. Sit. And talk.”

She shoves him in the direction, following him to the table and wordlessly sets a mug down in front of him. With a sigh, she settles on the chair opposite the young man, who, mirroring Dani, sits there with his head in his hands and sniffs quietly.

”So, now you tell me. What went wrong?”

*

”Maybe I should just go back.”

”No, you shouldn’t.”

With his hand firmly against the small of Nicky’s back, Jorge shoves the American along the way and keeps him in front of the door, waiting for someone to open. It takes a moment, before it does so, a tiredly blinking Valentino Rossi on the other side in boxers and a white T-Shirt only, yawning.

”Oh, yeah. Kind of expected you,” the Italian mumbles, eyes on Nicky and Jorge sees the American’ s fists ball and squeezes his back reassuringly, “why are you here though? You ought to be celebrating.” 

Vale pulls him into a brief hug, then does the same with Nicky, Jorge watching the American grit his teeth and going rigid.

”I know. Long story. Can we have coffee together?”

”Yes, that’s a good plan,” Valentino walks towards his kitchen and they follow until the Italian turns back around, eyeing Nicky, “Should I wake Linda?”

For an instant, Jorge thinks the American will kill Vale with his bare hands and he is quick to shake his head.

”No, don’t, let her rest,” Jorge says, his hand tightly holding onto to the back of Nicky’s hoodie.

While they follow the Italian towards the promised coffee, the Majorcan briefly pauses to whisper something towards Nicky.

”He wouldn’t. And you know it.”

And Nicky does relax at least slightly, making Jorge exhale deeply.

*

Tito feels home. It’s not his house and his almost boyfriend isn’t there, but he feels at home. Because the place is familiar. Because Roser has a gift of making pretty much everybody relax around her, Julia not much different. She talked to him for an hour straight, understanding but also very firm when it came to his doubts, his feelings of inferiority, vulnerability compared to Alex. She had left no doubt that she thought he was a coward and a fool for thinking so little of himself. And for thinking Alex would ever believe that, after they practically grew up together the past years. She’s right, of course she is. Maybe he knew that already when, after crying in Lola’s arms for some hours, he left Almeria for Cervera. Maybe he knew it while fighting with Alex already. But after what they heard about Honda’s reaction to Dani, how could he not be scared? _’You should have respect, at all times, and be aware of risks,’ Roser had said, ‘but you shouldn’t fear. Fear paralyzes, it stops you from moving, it keeps you from living.’_ And yes, she has a point there. 

He’d been more than a little surprised when they had lunch and Dani came down, wearing a 93-T-Shirt and jeans a few sizes too big, staring back at him just as shocked as Tito had felt. They’d not spoken about anything important though, so he still has no idea why Dani is there. And doesn’t really know why Marc is not. They are spending the afternoon with the Playstation, Fifa tournament on, gradually distracting them a bit, getting them to talk and chat a bit more. _Home, that’s what it is. To me, apparently to Dani. And they just let us be here._ What amazes him even more is how, despite the brothers being gone for almost a day now, Julia and Roser are more or less calm, not constantly dialing their phones or calling for a search. Just waiting. _But when you provide your kids with a home like this, you can probably be quite sure that they’ll always come back. Who wouldn’t?_

*

”Like the view?”

Alex sits down on the beach next to him, handing him a coffee and Marc nods, eyes on the horizon. _Sure I do. Always love the sea. But you know what, little brother, I love you to pieces but I’d rather share this with Vale._ He feels the tears dwell up again and buries his head in his arms.

For the longest time, they just sit there and watch, faint sun over the sea, no more drizzle coming down, the air warming up and waves approaching with soothing, even sounds.

”You know,” Alex’s voice wakes him from a fantasy where he is here with Vale, two small kids playing in the sand in front of him, a dog running in and out of the water, “maybe you should let Vale decide this?”

”He’d never- “ Marc trails off, swallowing hard. “He wouldn’t tell me. He’d be all selfless and give it up. But it’s his dream, you know?”

”Dreams can change. You could adopt.”

”It’s not the same.”

”I know.” 

They fall back into silence until he hears Alex cough.

”Marc?”

”Hm?”

”Could you do it?”

”Do what?”

”Not have kids.”

Marc throws a sideways glance at his brother who is just lighting himself another cigarette, blowing, a grey cloud of smoke into the air. _I can’t believe you’re old enough to think about that, too, now. And you probably are… God, I should be there for you but I can’t. Because I don’t know, I honestly don’t know._ Marc’s eyes rest on his brother’s face, realizing just how much he’s grown up over that past season, inside and outside.

”Alex-“, he swallows down another lump in his throat and wraps an arm around the other’s shoulders, “I don’t know. I’ve never considered not having my own kids. I’ve always just been assuming there would be some eventually. And now, it’s freaking me out. Everything is freaking me out. I mean, gay. As MotoGP rider. That’s not exactly going to sit well, look at Dani and Jorge. And then all the media chasing us everywhere. The rumors. I don’t know if we could make it. And then I sometimes look into a mirror and I feel like I’m not myself anymore. Alex, I let him fuck me. Just like that.”

There’s a pause, Marc feeling himself blush over the thoughtless words, slightly breathless from the rant, air a bit heavier suddenly.

”How was it?”

The question makes his head jerk around violently, staring at Alex with a confused blink.

”The sex,” his younger brother insists, cheeks going slightly pink and eyes fixed on the water intently, “how was it?”

Feeling his cheeks go crimson, he actually considers the question, thoughts travelling back to the night in question. His cock twitches slightly and he feels the bittersweet clenching of his heart, realizing the honest answer is so simple.

”Perfect. It was perfect.”

*

He doesn’t know how it happened, but he is most certainly sitting next to Linda in that rental car, Vale and Jorge in the backseat, heading back for the airport. Somehow, without the two of them settling anything, this has happened. She got up eventually, came to the kitchen, saw their little group session and declared they were heading to the airport, now, because apparently Lola had figured out that Tito and Dani were both in Cervera. And Linda had every intention to get Jorge there, because _’dammit, maybe all of us other hopeless people fuck this up, but you two won’t, not after being brave enough to come out and propose and everything, Jorge Lorenzo, you are so fixing this’._

In Nicky’s head, an angel’s and a devil’s voice are fighting for upper hand, one telling him to apologize and forgive and trust, believing what Jorge said. The other telling him to blow up, yell and scream, convinced that the sight of Linda in a shirt from Vale and nothing else was all the confirmation he could need. The car wasn’t the appropriate place to talk though, even if their backseat travelers had both fallen asleep (and under different circumstances, the sight of Jorge snoring slightly into Vale’s shoulder would be hilarious). But Linda doesn’t look like she sees the adorableness. And even less like she wants to talk, eyes determinedly on the street, hands clutching to the steering wheel, face frowning and focused. _The thing is, when your opponent is Valentino Rossi, it doesn’t quite feel like you stand a chance._

*

”Food, home, rest?” Alex stands up, shivering and with a growling stomach.

Marc takes the extended hand and lets himself be pulled to his feet, nodding, tears wiped with his sleeve carelessly.

”Home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song by Meatpuppets, but yes, I was listening to the Nirvana version while writing.


	45. Only love...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one more chapter :O *sobs into pillow*  
> I can't believe it's so long, so far already. Have an especially long (by my standards ;) ) chapter in return!  
> And thank you for making writing this so wonderful with all your amazing feedback ♥ ♥ ♥

_...only love, only love can save_  
 _Only hope, only hope cries this fear away_

They stop for fuel and food and have an awfully quiet drive, tension close to unbearable. It’s strange, Marc thinks to himself, how it’s so different from last year. So different from last week. Last year, the high from winning the championship lasted weeks, this year, it’s never even happened. Does that mean he’s getting too sated, is he losing his hunger? Or is it all because of being lost to Vale? And a week ago, he’d felt that they were invincible, that they could make things last, only to fall over his own feet a few days later. Maybe he’s too young? Or the age gap too big? Maybe everything would be easier if they had different jobs. _Or maybe I’m just a coward._. Blinking against the tears and the faint sun, he sighs, trying to focus more on the road and less on his brain.

A sideways glance confirms that Alex has finally fallen asleep. Marc notes it with relief. He feels somehow guilty, as if Alex could be braver, more open towards Tito if Marc could manage a relationship with Vale. Because Alex said it loud and clear, _’if you and Vale fail, how in the world would Tito and I manage’_. Thing is so, apparently Dani and Jorge were doing much better at this. Or at least they had for a year. And at least from Marc’s point of view, Alex and Tito are much closer to Dani and Jorge in character than they are to him and Vale. Vale… his heart clenches and he has to remind himself to watch the road. For the rest of the drive, his thoughts are lost in a mix of memories and fantasies, all including a certain Italian. _Am I ready to give him what he needs?_

When he eventually pulls into their street, he immediately notices the cars parked at the side and wakes Alex with a rough nugdge.

”Ow, what was that for?”

”The cars,” he says, pointing outside while he turns off the engine.

”That’s Dani’s and that’s-“, his brother stops, swallowing hard, “that’s Tito’s car.”

Marc nods, freeing himself from the seatbelt and then staring at Alex.

”You’re not moving.”

”I can’t go in there.”

”You can. You’re a Marquez. We don’t run away from things.”

”Then why aren’t you in Tavullia again?”

”Because I fuck up being a Marquez sometimes. But you don’t, you’re better than that. And now out.”

He has made his way to the passenger door, holding it open and Alex climbs out hesitantly, saving Marc the drama of having to drag his brother to the front door by his hoodie. While he gently shoves Alex towards the front door, expecting his mother to yank it open any second, because she sure as hell heard their car the moment they pulled into the driveway, Marc’s thoughts start spinning. _Why is Dani here? Why? Why? Why?_

_Oh I know that we’re at war_

”Okay, we’ll stay here and get a hotel room if you take care of dropping him off with Dani.”

Linda stares at Vale, eyes full of determination and challenge and what could he do? How should he refuse? No, he doesn’t feel ready to face Marc, not at all. The little bastard has basically dumped him twice now. Without an explanation. But after talking to Linda for almost an entire night, he also knows that he’s still hopelessly in love with that kid and he doesn’t have a choice, he has to try at least to find a way for them. Even if it’s dawning upon him that with the circumstances, the age gap, their characters, chances are it will blow up dramatically.

”Okay,” he says softly, almost giving her a hug and stopping himself at the last second, not failing to notice the frown on Nicky’s face. “I will. And you guys better have a great time,” he says, trying to sound as light and casual as possible, earning a grateful smile from Linda. 

He briefly shakes hands with Nicky before he walks back to the car, Jorge waiting in the passenger seat, looking more wrecked than ever. _Now let’s get you sorted. Maybe start by explaining me why you’re here in the first place._

*

”Why are you here?” Marc leans back against the headboard, Dani cross-legged at the other end of the bed, shrugging defiantly.

”You tell me.”

”Dani, I’m the kid here, I’m supposed to be acting up. Don’t do that. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

”I didn’t ask for help. Not yours, not Jorge’s, not Vale’s. I’m grown up, I’m talented, I don’t need you guys to back me up.”

Dani spits the words out, taking a large swig from their shared bottle of wine and glaring at Marc. And now he understands, pieces in Marc’s head finally falling into place as he realizes that Dani found out how exactly his seat was kept.

”Maybe I didn’t even do it for you though.”

”Does it matter? You did it for Vale, Vale did it for Jorge, Jorge did it for me.”

”Maybe I was just trying to make sure that I’ll still have a seat in case Vale and I mess up something and end up all over twitter again? Maybe I would have done it even if nobody asked me to? Maybe I had already done it when Vale talked to me? Did you ask? Did you really ask Jorge why he did that? Because you know what, Jorge was a wreck, he was so scared of losing you, of not having you in the paddock, of ruining your life, he cried for days and believe me, it wasn’t pretty. And yeah, now you look at me all confused, because you didn’t notice, but I assure you, he did. It’s just that he couldn’t do it in front of you because you hurt enough already and he didn’t want to make things worse. And also, if you had really talked to all of this, you’d have learned that Jorge did approach Vale, but at the time, Vale had long talked to Yamaha and I had already spoken to Honda.”

Marc stops, breathless, realizing he talked himself into unreasonable fury, noticing the tears on Dani’s cheeks. With gentle fingers, he takes the bottle from the smaller man, putting it down and then pulling Dani into his arms. The older rider collapses into Marc’s hoodie, sobbing into the fabric and Marc feels guilty for his harsh words, as deserved as they may have been.

”Dammit, Dani, since when are you so thick`?” He mumbles, his hand rubbing the smaller man’s back, only now noticing the shirt he’s wearing and unable to stop the giggle, “You look good with that 93 on your back, you know? I had no idea you were such a fan of mine.”

_But honey please before I sleep_

”Er, hi.” He stammers, feeling himself blush dark red, relieved to see Roser smile at them as warm as ever. 

”Hi Valentino, hi Jorge, just get inside. I’m sorry I have to be a bit brief with you, Julia and I are just getting ready to go over to a friend’s house… I think you’re here for Marc and Dani, right?”

He nods, but before he can open his mouth, she continues.

”They’re both in Marc’s room, you know the way. Again, I’m sorry for not talking more.” She hugs both of them briefly and Vale’s stomach twists when she whispers a soft ‘fix this’ into his ear.

With a sigh, he shoves Jorge up the staircase, mind spinning and quite far away, the anticipation of seeing Marc making him feel something between horror and joy. _Goodness. I’m too old to be visiting you in your childhood room. I’m too old for you, I think. Maybe that’s what holds you back?_ He’s so far gone that he doesn’t even knock before he opens the door and enters, firm hand on Jorge’s shoulder pushing the Majorcan inside with him. And his heart jumps at the sight, at Marc holding a sleeping Dani, looking up at him with eyes that are still full of affection, that clearly still love him, want him, but where the affection mixes with some sadness he cannot put his fingers on. Next to him, Jorge trembles visibly and Vale holds him up by the shoulder.

”You’re here, you’re both here,” comes the incredulous whisper from the bed, tentative smile forming on Marc’s lips and Vale feels the tears dwell up again, overrun by the urge to throw himself at the young rider, only held back by a sleeping Pedrosa in Marc’s lap.

_We’re here. We’re all here._

*

”Are we talking about what happened?” She sounds aggressive and looks the same, arms crossed firmly in front of her chest.

”Listen, I’m sorry,” Nicky sighs, leaning back against the balcony railing, eyes fixing hers, “it’s just hard, you know?”

”Because you think I’m once a cheater always a cheater? Do you really think that because I kissed you when I was still with Vale you can now never trust me ever again? Because I don’t think we make any sense if you think that.”

”What?” He splutters, shaking his head, “No, Linda, no. That’s not… it’s not you. It’s not even Vale. It’s just – He’s better than me. He rides better. He has more money. He’s flirty. Everybody knows him, everybody loves him. I’m like an ugly duckling compared to him and I feel like I can only lose next to him.”

”Yet I kissed you when I could have had him.”

She walks back inside and with his cigarette dumped over the railing, he follows her example. They end up sitting on the bed together, his hand on her knee, their gazes evading each other.

”I’m really sorry. I acted like a brat.”

Nicky swallows down the lump in his throat, waiting for her to answer. When no words come, he turns her face towards him with a gentle push of his finger, shocked to see the tears streaming down her face. His heart almost explodes from pain when he sees her wobbly lips.

”Linda… I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

With a sigh, he pulls her closer, holding her against his chest, feeling her body shudder against his.

It takes a small eternity before she calms down and disentangles herself, looking up at him with teary eyes, still gorgeous, even with eyeliner everywhere and messy strands of hair clinging to her face.

”I was so scared, so, so scared. I thought, I really thought you didn’t really want me. I don’t even know why. Just, on the phone, you were so cold, so strange, I thought you’d never understand. And God, Nicky, I was so scared.”

”I… You’d never get rid of me so easily,” he says softly, surprised by her strong emotions, “but why did it upset you so much? I mean… I was a dick, okay, but why did it scare you so much?”

”Because I think-“ He sees her swallow and then she buries her head in the shoulder of his hoodie, her hands clutching to his front, “I think I could be pregnant.”

_I wanna wine you, dine you, not deny you_

”So we agree that we’re sorry?” Alex smiles at Tito, the older rider sitting front of him and looking adorably nervous.

”Yes, I think we agree. Cheers?” Tito holds up the Estrella Galicia bottle.

”Cheers.” The bottles clink and with the beer downed and a box of cigarettes evaporated, their talking goes from serious topics to funny stories from the past season. 

Alex feels strangely distant at times, as if he can watch himself sitting there, in his parents garden, sharing beer and a smoke with the same guy he’s done that a hundred time with before and yet, it’s not the same tonight. Much less, when suddenly, both of them still laughing at the memory of Marc’s tantrum when he crashed his dirtbike into their van, Tito’s hands cup his face and pull him closer.

”This okay?” Tito growls, their lips almost touching and their eyes locked in a dangerous stare.

”Under one condition.” Alex doesn’t even blink.

”Which?”

”Tomorrow, you take me back to Almeria and there you’ll take me out to dinner. Properly.”

His heart pounds relentlessly while he waits for the older man to reply.

”Deal.” 

Tito answers firmly after a moment and Alex is just about to reply when their lips crash and their teeth hit. _Okay. Deal._

_I’m looking for a ray of sun in here_

Dani hadn’t even woken up when Marc disentangled from him and left so now Jorge is stuck with his fiancé on his enemy’s childhood bed. _And the funny thing is, that it doesn’t seem half as weird as it should._

He runs his fingers through Dani’s hair, still thinking about Marc’s word, the younger explaining to him how he’d talked to Dani and thought he’d gotten the message across, explaining how Dani had said he was sorry and missed him. _God. If we manage this now, I’ll have to thank Marc until the end of my life. Marc Marquez saved my engagement._ He shakes his head in disbelief, hoping, praying that Marc and Vale would also manage to fix their issues, whatever they are. He doesn’t get to think about it, because Dani begins to stir in his hold and Jorge’s breath hitches while he waits for a reaction. First, Dani’s eyes blink at him, confused and his heart breaks over the redness, the tear-stained cheeks. Then, he sees a tentative smile on the smaller rider’s face.

”You came to Cervera?”

Jorge nods, holding his breath, still afraid to say something wrong.

”I’m so glad. I was such an idiot and you still came to Cervera to find me?”

Jorge doesn’t answer, just pulls Dani up for a kiss. _We all screw up sometimes._

The kiss deepens, tongues licking into mouths, teeth gritting and hands are roaming under shirts.

”You know,” Jorge pants after a while, tugging on Dani’s borrowed shirt, “this really needs to go.”

Dani grins, as evil as ever and takes it off teasingly slow, revealing the perfect body that Jorge craves so much, prompting him to be all over the smaller man in an instant. He’s pinning him down on the mattress and littering him with kisses and licks. And he’s straddling his hips, so he knows exactly what effect it has on Dani, who bucks up against him every once in a while.

”You do realize,” Dani hisses, hands clutching to Jorge’s shoulders, “that this is _his_ bed?”

”Do you care?” Jorge growls, his own hard on making his jeans painfully tight now.

”No, not at all.”

”Then I don’t care either.”

He mutes Dani’s reply by kissing him hard again, his hands busy with their jeans and they both fidget and wriggle until they’re finally naked, kiss broken once to shed Jorge’s shirt, moans released into it more and more desperate. Dani’s nails are certainly leaving marks on his back while he opens him, spit as lube because he doesn’t dare looting Marc’s dresser and he tries so hard to hold back that Dani eventually squeezes his ass and just presses him closer until he’s buried to the hilt. And yes, he fucks his fiancé into his enemy’s mattress and it’s still not weird. Not even when they’re literally done, pressed against each other under the sheets, sweaty and sticky but both with sheepish smiles on their faces.

”Talk tomorrow?” He whispers into Dani’s ear, a hand ruffling the soft black hair.

”Talk tomorrow.”

_I’m sorry for my words_

”Explain to me.” Vale asks, head buried in Marc’s neck and Marc nods, realizing that he can no longer avoid it.

Not that he hadn’t tried. As soon as they’ d left Jorge and Dani in his room, he’d pushed the Italian into the guestroom, kissed him breathless, stripped both of them and then taken him down on the mattress, all quick enough to not even let the older say as much as hello. And he’d been clinging to Vale as to dear life, pressed him closer, always closer until the Italian got the clue and fucked him. It’s been lovemaking the first time, but this time it was fucking, dirty, rough, desperate. Needless to say, neither of them lasted very long and now, the afterglow fading and their hot bodies snuggled against each other under the sheets, Marc has to explain himself. 

”I-“, he swallows, fingers digging into Vale’s shoulders, brain rummaging for words, “I’m sorry. But I saw that interview and you wanted kids and you-“

”Interview? Kids?” Vale sits up and stares down at him, making Marc squirm.

”Yes, on youtube.”

”Marc, that’s an old interview.”

”I know, but-“

”Wait. Did you just say that you watched youtube videos of me? Why?” Marc sees the dirty smirk on Vale’s face and blushes.

”Because I-“ he hides his face under his arm, still squirming under Vale’s scrutinizing look, “Because I missed you.”

He waits for the inevitable laughter, but instead, feels a soft kiss on his forehead and then, he’s pulled into Vale’s arms, his head on Vale’s pillow.

”That’s the cutest thing ever. Really. And I missed you, too.”

”And kids?” Marc asks after a while, knowing they’ll have to face this at one point.

”Don’t know. And I don’t think you do. I think we’ll figure it out.” Vale rubs his back and after a while, the Italian’s steady breathing tells him that the older rider has drifted away.

_I still think we have an expiry date. But maybe treasuring it as long as possible is good enough._ Marc wouldn’t say he’s happy when he falls asleep eventually, but he’s at least happier than he was without Vale.

_Hold you higher, always higher_

”How can you know? It’s only been a couple of weeks.”

”I don’t know. I just think- Well, we… we didn’t…”

”We didn’t?” Not that he’d remember, drunk as he was. And he looks at her face, finding it full of regret and shame, her head shaking slowly.

”Oh.” He takes a moment, tries to let it sink in, voice in his head telling him that it doesn’t mean anything because it’s still not likely she’d get pregnant from that one time.

”And I- I kind of calculated and it would have been the time where-“ She stops, her head dropping against his shoulder.

_Oh._ His arms wrap around her and his mind goes slightly blank, processing the information difficult right now.

”I don’t think it has to mean that you’re pregnant,” he whispers into her hair, swallowing desperately against the lump that’s forming in his throat, “But if you are, we’re going to be the best parents in the world. And Vale will be godfather.”

The soft chuckle, muffled by his own shirt, warms his heart so much, because it’s the most comforting knowledge in the world that he can still make her smile. And not just that apparently, because eventually, she falls asleep in his arms, looking beautiful and serene, confirming that yes, she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to him. Before he turns off the lights and pulls the cover over them, he takes a brief moment to touch her firm stomach, hand against the naked, soft skin, smiling incredulously. _Could be worse, I guess._

*

”Home now?” They’ve stepped out of Marc’s shower and dressed themselves, Dani now in a plain shirt and no longer in Marc’s merchandise.

In response, the smaller rider shakes his head determinedly, confusing Jorge.

”Sabadell.”

”You’re kidding.”

The smaller rider shakes his head.

”Dani, you said they hate it. Us.”

For a moment, Dani just looks at him intently, then he laces their fingers between them and it bursts out, louder, more determined than he’s used from his fiancé.

”I don’t care. I really, really don’t care. I am only getting married once and it will be to you and if they don’t like that than just like everybody else they’ll have to suck it up and deal with it. And we are going to Sabadell and we’re ringing their doorbell and going inside as a couple and they will listen to us. They will listen to me. Jorge, I am about to be thirty and it’s about time they accept the fact that I am grown up and capable of making my own decisions and you know what,” Dani pauses, taking a deep breath and Jorge is biting his lip to stop himself from laughing fondly over the angry but still so adorable face in front of him, “ you know what, Jorge, they will listen and they’ll get over and then I’ll kiss you. On their couch. Right in front of them. And it will be good.”

Jorge looks down, into a pair of dark eyes that he loves more than anything, a blushed face, Dani slightly breathless after his rant and Jorge feels so much love and affection and complete adoration flowing through his system, that he cannot stop smiling like an idiot.

”Okay, Sabadell,” he whispers eventually, pressing a kiss to Dani’s forehead. “We’ll show them what they’re missing.”

*

”Okay guys, we’re heading off to Almeria.”

Marc smiles brightly, giving his brother an encouraging wink and pulling both of them into a hug.

”Don’t overdo it, guys, you have some testing ahead.”

Tito goes adorably pink from the comment and Alex slaps him, hard. Marc is just about to say something when they’re interrupted by a suddenly very hasty Valentino.

”Oh, right, I almost forgot. Before you leave, do you have Lola’s number for me?”

They all stare at the Italian with huge question marks in their eyes. Tito is the first to move, scrolling through his phone.

”Yes, why?” He mumbles, holding his phone out to the Italian.

”I’ll explain later. I have to send an urgent message. Bye guys, stay safe and protect yourselves!”

The Italian disappears in a rush and with a dirty smirk. Marc shrugs, not that crazy Vale is something new and then he laughs about the two purple faces in front of him.

”It’s okay, we’ll stop embarrassing you for now,” he mumbles, speaking between the bubbling laughter difficult and then he ushers them outside, “Have a great time and see you at the ranch next weekend!”

Once he’s back inside, he takes a deep breath. _Time to go._

”Vale? We have to go now or we’ll miss our flight.”

_In the end there’s another sunrise_

“Lorena Diaz. Hello?”  
“Hi. Um. This is probably the strangest phone call you have received. But um, okay, my name is Luca, Luca Marini and I got your number from Vale. He said you’re coming to his party and I wanted to ask if maybe we could- go together?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Gunfight by Lawrence Fox


	46. Stars Fall Down (Or: Please, please, please, let me get what I want...)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for everything ♥  
> I loved and savored writing every line of this ♥

_So let's laugh, talk, tickle and taste_  
 _Till the star fall down_

”We’ve been noticed.”

”I know.”

”There’ll be headlines.”

”I know.”

”What are we saying to explain?”

For a moment, it’s silent between them and then, in the middle of the, admittedly pretty empty, airplane, but still, in public, Vale cups his face, presses a kiss to his forehead and smiles.

”What do you think, Bambino, if we just don’t say anything? No comment and that’s it? Don’t you think they’d go mad?”

Marc thinks and considers and then, an evil grin crosses his face.

”They will,” he kisses Vale’s lips chastely and laces their fingers between them, “and they deserve it.”

He blushes slightly when he sees the flight attendant pass them with a knowing grin, but then he figures that as long as Dani and Jorge can deal with it, he and Vale can do the same.

*

”So, Alex and Tito?” They’re in a rental car, headed for the ranch, fingers laced between them and Marc’s head against the window.

”Yup, my brother and my best friend. Playing lovebirds in Almería. Yuck.”

”Aw, I’m sure they’ll have a wonderful time together. You know, all alone, at Tito’s place, far away from nosy brothers-“

”Can we not talk about the fact that my brother might be fucking my best friend right now?”

”Sure. We can always talk about your best friend fucking your brother.”

”Vale, eww. Stop it. Maybe we better talk about how you set up my girlfriend with your brother.”

”Half-brother. And fake girlfriend. And they’ll be cute as hell together next weekend, they’ll blow peoples’ minds.” Vale pauses, a finger lifting Marc’s chin and turning his face so their eyes meet. His voices get a shade more serious when he continues, “Maybe we should talk about the fact that you watched youtube movies about me.”

”I-“ Marc trails off, having to swallow down a lump again, “I already told you I missed you.”

”I know. I missed you, too. And it hurt. Didn’t like it. And don’t want it to happen ever again.”

”What are you saying?”

”That it’s not the first time you ran off but I need it to be the last time. That I need you to understand that you can actually talk to me instead of hiding. That I missed you so much that I cried myself to sleep. That I need you more than I ever needed anyone in my life.” Vale pauses, eyes still fixed on Marc’s, inhaling sharply, “I am saying that it’s scary as hell to love you, but that I do and can’t help it.”

*

He pushes him into the mattress without second thought, greedy, needy and hungry, lips already locked in a violent kiss. From unlocking the front door to falling into the sheets, they’d managed to lose bags, shoes, socks and shirts and Vale’s hand is already toying with the buckle of Marc’s belt. He has missed him so bad and it’s not a good thing, because if they plan on trying this, missing each other is something they have to get better at, more relaxed about. Right now though, there’s nothing laid back about the situation, needy moans spilling into their kiss, taste of blood on his tongue, both of them wriggling to get the last offending pieces of fabric as far away as possible. When they’re finally skin on skin from head to toe, he stops a moment, taking his time to marvel the sight beneath him. Marc is glowing, skin glistening with sweat, eyes darker than midnight, lips swollen and parted and his entire body is shivering in Vale’s hold, the Italian pinning his wrists down firmly.

”Please, Vale.”

And he’s begging, actually begging him. The words go straight to Vale’s cock, making it twitch in anticipation. He has to let go off Marc’s hands to reach the drawer and the younger rider uses the moment to bury his hands in Vale’s curls, pulling him down for another kiss, one that’s more languid, with less blood. Vale chuckles into Marc’s mouth when the other whimpers wantonly after the single finger begins teasing his hole. _I would never have thought I’d do this. Much less with you. And it’s so good, so incredibly good._

*

They don’t last long and Marc wouldn’t have expected anything else after the craziness they’ve had over the past days. It only takes Vale a few, heavy thrusts to find his prostate and from there, it’s a blur of fireworks and stars, loud moaning, desperate need for oxygen and the feeling of Vale being everywhere. He comes as soon as Vale’s fingers touch his cock, spurting hot liquid between their bodies and while his climax takes all the air from his lungs, he distantly hears the Italian follow him with a cry, before he collapses on top of him, both of them zoning out for a bit.

When his senses return, Marc’s fingers are tangled in Vale’s hair and he kisses the Italian’s temple gently.

”I love you.”

”I love you, too,” Vale kisses his neck and rolls off him, “sorry for crushing you.”

”You’d never. You’re skin and bones.” Marc chuckles, a finger tracing Vale’s ribs.

”You mind?” There’s serious concern on the Italian’s face, making Marc feel sorry instantly.

”No, of course not! I let you fuck me, if that doesn’t say ‘damned, you’re too hot to be true’ then I don’t know what does.” Marc kisses the Italian forcefully, relieved to hear the pleased little moan.

*

Peacefully asleep, that's how Marc is rolled up against him, legs over his lap and hands in his hair. Vale disentangles very slowly and carefully, sitting back on the edge of the mattress and studying his lover in the light of the night lamp. _You’re beautiful, but you look so young. God, you are so young._ He traces Marc’s face with a finger, pushing a stray strand of dark hair aside with a sigh. The innocence on the younger man's face is breathtaking and it's scaring him, because if Vale knows one thing about himself then that he is not innocent. Frowning, he moves to put on a jeans and Marc’s hoodie, which is slightly too short but smelling so wonderfully like the younger rider.

With a sigh, Vale steps outside the bedroom door and sits on one of the balcony’s chairs, legs pulled up. He stares into the black sky, reminded of the shade Marc’s eyes had earlier and shivering from the thought. His fingers are actually shaky when he fumbles for a cigarette, awkwardly lighting it. His eyes follow the thin grey clouds into the air. _I might ruin your life. I might really be ruining your life and I guess I should be responsible and step back before I make it worse. Can I make it worse?_ After a while, his thoughts spinning in vicious circles, he gets up, bare feet freezing on the tiles. Propping his elbows up on the railing, he keeps staring into the black, wondering how close he is to finally get what he wants. And he silently pleads with a God that he hasn’t spoken to since 2011, begging him to finally let him have what he wants. For the first time, he wants to get the one he loves and he is so scared of losing Marc, of being selfish in wanting him, of hurting a mere kid, that he cannot even hold back the tears from streaming down his face. _We’re trying this, okay? Maybe we fail, but at least we will try._ And even so there are still tears on his cheeks, Vale just has to chuckle at the thought of how much he just sounded like Jorge Lorenzo.

*

Marc wakes up from the shifting of the mattress and when he hears footsteps pat away from the bed and not towards the bathroom, he eventually sits up slightly, blinking in confusion. _Oh. Yeah… sure, that’s where you’re going. How sweet, a cigarette after._ Marc smiles fondly, his eyes on Vale’s slender body in front of the large bedroom window. And even in the very dim light he can clearly see him, slouched in a chair, looking so much younger than usual. Smaller. Helpless. _I hope I’ll be strong enough for you… I really think you need to lean on someone for once._ He can feel the fondness wash over his body, stray tears of joy running down his cheeks and he could sit here forever, just staring at the love of his life. And he’s quietly pleading with God or fate or karma, begging to get what he wants this time. Pleading for them to be allowed their piece of happiness against all odds. After a while, he sees him stand up, all slender silhouette; gorgeous as ever and then he’s out there, leaning over the railing, puffs of cigarette smoke evaporating and Marc sees the back of his hoodie and realizes that it’s his own. He is pretty sure that if he died there and, he’d be dying the happiest death ever, sight of Valentino Rossi with a 93 on his back just overwhelming. _You’re mine. Even if it’s just tonight, but you’re really mine._

_Trace my face while it's a happy face_  
 _When my smile fades,_  
 _I wanna remember this day_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Parlotones  
>  Subtitles: The Smiths
> 
> This is not the last chapter. It was supposed to be second last and I had to tweak a few lines, because some parts I wanted in the story didn't quite fit into the 46 chapters.  
>  However, there's an epilogue, still unused, sitting on my drive and... well, let's just say there'll be more. Of them and everybody else. Not in this story, but in another one that's going to be unravelled on the weekend. ♥
> 
> So for once in my life  
>  _let me get what I want_  
>  _Lord knows it would be the first time_


End file.
